De La Soul

De La Soul - Sh. Fe. MC's songtekst

Je score:


	We are here to tell the world just who we are

	Shocking female (MC's), shocking female (MC's) (Repeat 2x)



Verse 1: Phife



No need for, introductions, cause I know you know my name and

Knocking MC's out the frame and, putting them suckers to shame and

I live for hip-hop, so I have no time for fun and games and

So just come and peep the unique styles we are displaying

The beat's just ridiculous, the lyrics articulate

Feels good, as if a girl just touched her (tits)

Sucker MC's, I'm killing 'em, I'm so sick of seeing 'em

Silly (shit) when they rhyme, like that red rugby shirt worn by Gilligan

Plus the hat, they (shit) is wack

When you see me coming take ten steps back

I make usage of the pronouns, adjectives, verbs

My granny says "You always had a way with words"

And that's because my word is bond, lyrics are laws

Sucker MC's look at me like I'm friggin' eye sore



Verse 2: Posdnuos



Heere comes a brother hipping others on the style they lack

I've always rhymed abstract, I even know the brother named Abstract

I am the earner of the soul in mine

Forget the physical cause the physical will die with time

I'm shaped to vibrate in definite proportions

Of the kids who need the fix (Just listen to the mix)

I just imagine constant non-stop for the rubbishing

Like (niggas) use the Clinton loops as if they owned the publishing

Ducks be bleeding from illegal feeding on my verb

I bring the Mardi Gras to your face

I outwit vipers in my rhyme cipher

I can easily lick them cause they're victims of the subconscious race

Tossing periods in front of false reps?

It's not the 187 when the 360 slept

You swallow the cake from the plate of elevate

Or you might get sparked by the crew who got the weight

So recessitating rap like the hicks do with Presley

It's the kid who peed the jeans in Orleans off of Nesley

Just be MC number nine, if you let me rhyme nine times infinitely I will 

climb

I let my Walkman from Sony play cassettes from Raboni

Which guarantees to put me on the narrow road

Ayo, that's it from me, Plug 3, and Ali explode!



Verse 3: Q-Tip



When I rhyme, the effect just ripples

You sound sick, I hope your cells get sickles

You formulate into real stiff (shit)

Then I bet that it cut the chit chit

Cause the Ab will, be sharper than a Ginsu

Cutter or your bum (ass) head for the gutter

This is not a game and we ain't looking for the fame

That ain't the aim, we came to rip the jam out the frame

My inter-reaction with paper is amazing

So needless to say mad trails are left blazing

A whole lot of bull(shit) rhymes start to get play

But I'm here to say real rhymes to pay

I'm the type of brother that writes until my knuckles get nary

And through the domepiece, the rhymes will carry

Then transported to my throat then the quotes hit the air

As I stand dipped with the wares

Rhymes get slot times, move back from the jack

It's the verbal constructor, some MC's is wack

I make a girl do the bogle, doo doo brown and all

Make (niggas) jump up, drink Don, and have a ball

I ainimate the unlively with the verbal combat

The Abstract, never the wack

Motivator of the many like Moses

Moving through, bringing games into the dummies that pose us

That means you the sub relator of the sub culture

Like a vulture I swoop down on crowns, cause confusion all around

Mental burdens I bring to MC's who sing

They sad songs, money, the dough's not long

Mine on the other hand is lent me tight

The Abstract gets real, real, real



Verse 4: Dove



Real down to Earth I hit the Long Island Rail

You never see me tango with the horn and the tail

I got the kid for your mind I design it like sender

Smoking made hope from my neighbors, and the

50/50 luck takes the "S" off my chest

Cause the "S" on my chest makes a mess

Settling for Superman, stupid man, put on your glasses

Now your (ass) be slow guessing like molasass

Continue the menu, next on the platter

Hey where that (bitch) at? (He's right here boy!)

I gotta see what I got and who I'm getting it with

This ain't no nickle dime game that I'm peddling with

Mikie Rose said "Stop riding, it be dividing

Taking me out how I be vibing"

Packing hard like pistol but my pops got the crystal

Told me if I ever need it just *whistle*

Respects to Griff Dog for the razor

Much respects to Joe but for the favor

It's about a million brothers trying to make it in this world

I'm glad I got a baby girl
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Taal: Engels

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