Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Ali Shaheed Muhammad
Ali Shaheed Muhammad
DJ
Busta Rhymes
Busta Rhymes
Sampled Artist
Phife Dawg
Phife Dawg
Vocals
Q-Tip
Q-Tip
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Ali Shaheed Muhammad
Ali Shaheed Muhammad
Songwriter
Kamaal Fareed
Kamaal Fareed
Songwriter
Malik Izaak Taylor
Malik Izaak Taylor
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
A Tribe Called Quest
A Tribe Called Quest
Producer
Tim Latham
Tim Latham
Engineer
Brad Schmidt
Brad Schmidt
Assistant Engineer
Chris Flam
Chris Flam
Assistant Engineer
Eric Gast
Eric Gast
Assistant Engineer
George Spatta
George Spatta
Assistant Engineer
Gerard Julien
Gerard Julien
Assistant Engineer
Hoover Le
Hoover Le
Assistant Engineer
Patrick Derivaz
Patrick Derivaz
Assistant Engineer
Pete Christensen
Pete Christensen
Assistant Engineer
Tom Coyne
Tom Coyne
Mastering Engineer

Lyrics

"Oh my God!" -> Busta Rhymes There's a million MC's that claim they want some But see, I create sounds that make your ears go numb Peace to Sayers Ave., yeah you know how we go My best friend Steven at the Home Depot Lowerton is in the house, I can't forget Southside Walk past MC's like that girl did the Pharcyde I'm labeled as the cat's meow, the MC with the know-how Act like you know, not now, but right now Beast of the East, on MC's I have a feast I'd eat that ass like quiche, crack a smile like Shanice Straight out Jamaica scene, Jamaica, Queens But you could find me out in Georgia, or anywhere in between Now if my partners don't look good, Malik won't look good If Malik don't look good, the Quest won't look good If the Quest don't look good, then Queens won't look good But since the sounds are universal, New York won't look good Picture Phife losin a battle, come on, get off it Put down the microphone son, surrender forfeit Did I hear somethin bout a crew? What they wanna do? You better call Mr. Babyface, so he can bring out _The Cool in You_ Or it'll be a sad love song being sung by Toni Braxton And I'll dissect you like a fraction Oh, you wannabe top cat MC's, I'll pop you like a zit You wanna be the champ, you more like Chief Some-shit Big up myself everytime when it comes to this MC's be runnin scared as if they're watchin the Exorcist I kick more game than a crackhead from Hempstead My styles are milk, man, you'd think that I was breast fed You know the steelo when the diggy Dawg is on the scene I dedicate this to all the MC's outta Queens That goes for Onyx, LL, Run-D.M.C. Akinyele, Nasty Nas and the Extra P You need a chart, straight up and down man, there ain't no other Nuff respect to all my peeps that made the album cover Yo, Tip don't worry Dunn you know I get the party jumpin Get on the mic and break em off a lil lil sumthin Yo, Tip don't worry Dunn you know I get the party jumpin Get on the mic and break em off a lil lil sumthin (Ooohh...) "Oh my God!" -> Busta Rhymes (Over Busta Rhymes) La, la, la, la. Doop, doo, do, do. La, la, la, la. Shooby-doop, do, do. La, la, la, la. Shooby-doo, do, do. You know I'm on the other, for the top 40 Haha, you gotta do it like this. We got the funk doody don shit, clearly it's the bomb shit So recognize me, kids memorize me Everyday, I be scroungin, really, I be loungin I play the down low, very very incognito Aries is my sign, I know that I can rhyme Sometimes I rhyme in riddles, plus I make the hunnies wiggle Intellect is the major, some heads like to wager The skills on the hill, overlookin dollar bills Man, ya crazy, thinkin you can phase me The Ab doesn't study near nonsense money Life seems to meet me, MC's seem too cheesy With they doody ass renditions of defeatin competition I rock to the roll man, yes, I'm a soul man Bet'cha bottom dolla, Vinia will make ya holla As ya stand at attention, did I forget to mention MC's will give me twenty, if I sense that they act funny Lyrics are abundant, right there, I sound redundant Just mentionin the fact, that the area is fat I dwell in the unda, so hunny, it's no wonder That I get plenty of tail, well I even get white I'ma bet hittin head crack, there money, take that Breakin niggaz off, cut their bank, then I'm off While my Nik'es match my lil hat, beat joint is mad fat Got the cutter of the box if a kid thinks he's ox For tier means creator, the poetry relator It's hemp, like Betsy Ross, let me tell you who's the boss La, la, la. ("Oh my God!") La, la, la. ("Oh my God!") La, la, la. ("Oh my God!", smooth it y'all) La, la, la. ("Oh my God!" La, la, la. ("Oh my God!") La, la, la. ("Oh my God!") La, la, la. ("Oh my God!") La, la, la. ("Oh my God!") Queens got a Zoo Brooklyn got a Zoo Bronx got a Zoo Long Island got a Zoo Long Island. got the zone Jersey got a Zoo Philly got a Zoo Milwaukee got a Zoo L.A. got a Zoo Oaktown got the zone La, la, la. See, I like to get down Jack
Writer(s): Malik Izaak Taylor, Ali Shaheed Jones-muhammad, Kamaal Ibn John Fareed Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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