Presentada en
Canciones más populares de A Tribe Called Quest
Créditos
AUSFÜHRENDE KÜNSTLER:INNEN
Consequence
Künstler:in
Q-Tip
Stimme und Gesang
Phife Dawg
Stimme und Gesang
KOMPOSITION UND LIEDTEXT
Kamaal Fareed
Songwriter:in
Malik Izaak Taylor
Songwriter:in
Dexter Mills
Songwriter:in
PRODUKTION UND TECHNIK
Q-Tip
Produzent:in
Blair Wells
Aufnahmeingenieur:in
Gloria Kaba
Ingenieurassistent:in
Jeremy Lubsey
Mastering-Ingenieurassistent:in
Vlado Meller
Mastering-Ingenieur:in
Letras
[Verse 1]
Yo, y'all ready?
Yo, Phife, you ready?
Cons, you got that part, right? Aight
I don't know, but it don't matter who choose to set it off
ATCQ, no doubt my **** is boss
Little half ass rappers, y'all pissing me of
Time to dead 'em all off, yo, no matter the cost
[Verse 2]
(Black) They don't make thugs of this caliber
(Spasmodic) Who kept up a buzz the whole calendar?
(Black) Used to sell drugs out the Challenger
(Spasmodic) Used to keep guns with the silencers
(Black) They don't make thugs of this caliber
(Spasmodic) Who kept up a buzz the whole calendar?
(Black) Used to sell drugs out the Challenger
(Spasmodic) Now look what he does to any challenger
[Verse 3]
Now who want it with the Trini gladiator?
Mid finger to you haters, you biters, not innovators
I take zero for granted, I honors my gift
Champion pen game, plus I'm freestyle equipped
You clowns be bum sauce, speak my name, it's curtains
Hamdulillah, my crew's back to workin'
Trash rap the dead, pussy kill the chirpin'
No more fuck boys, sit down, shit can only get worse and
How do you touch mic with flows uncertain?
Speak game dry, boy, that flow ain't workin'
Folks throwing items, them vex and cursin'
Fuck made me wanna see these **** in person?
Third song in, motherfuckers dispersin'
Only to realize, Donald Juice in the building
Big tune, this for man, women, and children
Back on my bullshit, Busta buss then we kill them
[Verse 4]
(Black) They don't make thugs of this caliber
(Spasmodic) Who kept up a buzz the whole calendar?
(Black) Used to sell drugs out the Challenger
(Spasmodic) Used to keep guns with the silencers
[Verse 5]
My **** spirit be talking to me, let me explain
Not through evil mediums, tarot cards, and Ouija games
But through mixing chords and boards and even drum machines
He be saying, "****, fuck awards, keep reppin' Queens
And don't be taking slack from these non-rapping ****, man
That intellectual shit you spit, you better change your plan
Especially when you see 'em at the lobby of a label
And they don't seem able to outstretch they hands and admit they fans
You better flame 'em in the J's that they standing in
Ostracize they memory for not rememberin'
The articles reduce their body parts to particles
And dust the Dead Sea with their cremated molecules
I'm leaving, but ****, you still got the work to do
I expect the best from you, I'm watching from my Heaven view
Don't disappoint me, make sure that they anoint me
As the blue ribbon pedigree, the best of show, five foot three
Speak of the legacy for short people around the world
Napoleonic, bionic people who cause the world to twirl
Rip every stage with grace, look right dead in they face
Live the Tribe principle of having impeccable taste
Enjoy that breath like that one was your last one left
If you don't believe me, Tip, there's truly life after death
So refer to the Biggie covers to shoutout my Trini brothers
And please check in on my mother, Malik Izaak, call me shorty"
[Verse 6]
(Black) They don't make thugs of this caliber
(Spasmodic) Who kept up a buzz the whole calendar?
(Black) Used to sell drugs out the Challenger
(Spasmodic) Used to keep guns with the silencers
(Black spasmodic)
Written by: Kamaal Fareed, Malik Izaak Taylor