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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Phife Dawg
Phife Dawg
Vocals
Q-Tip
Q-Tip
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Kamaal Fareed
Kamaal Fareed
Songwriter
Malik Izaak Taylor
Malik Izaak Taylor
Songwriter
A Tribe Called Quest
A Tribe Called Quest
Arranger
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
A Tribe Called Quest
A Tribe Called Quest
Producer
Bob Power
Bob Power
Mixing Engineer
Tom Coyne
Tom Coyne
Mastering Engineer

Lyrics

Yo, microphone check one two what is this The five foot assassin' with the ruff neck business I float like gravity, never had a cavity Got more rhymes than the ones that got family No need to sweat Arsenio to gain some type of fame No shame in my game 'cause I'll always be the same Styles upon styles upon styles is what I have You wanna diss the Phifer but you still don't know the half I sport New Balance sneakers to avoid a narrow path Messin' round with this you catch the sizin' of 'em I never half step 'cause I'm not a half stepper Drink a lot of soda so they call me Dr. Pepper Refuse to compete with BS competition Your name ain't Special Ed so won't you Suckle With the Mission I never walk the streets, think it's all about me Even though deep in my heart, it really could be I just try my best to like go all out Some might even say yo shorty black you're buggin' out Zulu Nation, brothers that's creation Minds get flooded, ejaculation right on the two inch tape The Abstract poet incognito, runs the cape Not the best not the worst and occasionally I curse to get my Point across, so bust, the floss As I go in between, the grit and the dirt Listen to the mission listen Miss as I do work, umm As I crack the, monotone children of the jazz so, get your own Smokin' R&B cause they try to do me Or the best of the pack but they can't do rap for it's Abstract, original You can't get your own and that's, pitiful I know I'd be the man if I cold yanked the plug On R&B, but I can't and that's bugged Buggin' out, buggin' out, buggin' out, you're buggin' out x 8 Yo when you bug out, you usually have a reason for the action Sometimes you don't it's just for mere satisfaction People be houndin', always surroundin' Pulsin', just like a migraine poundin' You don't really fret, you stay in your sense Comafied your feeling, of absolute tense You soar off to another world, deep in your mind But people seem to take that, as being unkind "Oh yo he's acting stank," really on a regal? A man of the fame not a man of the people Believe that if you wanna but I tell you this much Riding on the train with no dough, sucks Once again a case of your feet in my Nike's If a crowd is in my realm I'm saying, "Mic please" Hip-hop is living, can't yank the plug If you do the result, will end up kind of bugged Yo, I am not an invalid although I used to smoke the weed out Ali Shaheed Muhammad used to say I had to be out Schemin' on the cookies with the crazy boomin' back buns Pushin' on the real hardest so we can have the big fun When I left for Rosie I was Boulevard status Battling a MC was when Tip was at his baddest It was one MC after one MC What the world could they be wanting see from little old me Do I have the formula to save the world? Or was it just because I used to swipe the women and all the girls I'm the type of brother with the crazy extended hand kid Dissed by all my brothers, I was all up what my man did Supposed to be my man but now I wonder 'cause you're feeble I go out with the strongest and I separate the evils It's your brain against my mind, for those about to boot out All you nasty critters even though you see I bug out Buggin' out, buggin' out, buggin' out, you're buggin' out x8
Writer(s): Malik Izaak Taylor, Ali Shaheed Jones-muhammad, Kamaal Ibn John Fareed Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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