Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
De La Soul
De La Soul
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Kelvin Mercer
Kelvin Mercer
Songwriter
David Jude Jolicoeur
David Jude Jolicoeur
Songwriter
Vincent Mason
Vincent Mason
Composer
Allen Toussaint
Allen Toussaint
Composer
Lalo Schifrin
Lalo Schifrin
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
De La Soul
De La Soul
Producer
Prince Paul
Prince Paul
Producer
Hightower
Hightower
Mixing Engineer

Lyrics

Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled Get your ass up and let's get ill, that's right y'all We more than rough, we callin' your bluff And when it comes to rhymes (Brick City) Yo, don't scandalize mine, I spent too much time Straight talk with the catch to etch my line walk Never fetchin' for crime, halt, who goes there? Yo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin' Smokey the Bear Shinin' black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare While we rockin' it, I'll rock in it (rock in it) Like the little ball inside the spray can Providing three coats for both child, woman and man God bless the God, lay these streets wall to wall, it go Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh Yo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry click, it went Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh It ain't my fault your ass is on the asphalt ('phalt) Got your chin touched by my fam who thought you brought harm You see, I'm iced out like a glass of tea Better yet, oatmeal cookies, y'all just rookies to me Slidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D Why try? Maseo be gettin' high (yeah), since Luke was Luke Skywalk (yo) Man, my topic of talk is sheddin' shame all over your game Like them shorties who claim that Afrocentric lovin' is the past drug (what?) A life filled with (guns) that's what thugs love (what?) Snatch you fast, wrap that ass in the rug of your choice while it muffles your voice Now when I'm swimmin' through the joint, I put the funk on hold 'Cause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up We run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss Flashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss Most crews are post current while we're forever Direct beats that's contagious, loved by all ages Graduated from the you-and-I-versity of hard hitters, for real I got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine and it get Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh Yo, if you a fat chick gettin' your fuck on tonight then go Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh Yo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin' our sound, go Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh Yo, and to my broke niggas on the corner holdin' me down, go Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh Yo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong I had plans to buy more land, plant corn Bust kernels on heat, work hard like wetbacks Setbacks is gonna get my ass P.E. hostile Rockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat (uh-huh) Big moneys make the big decisions Keep hip hop alive, it's just an intermission (yeah) Back to the second half of the feature flick, dick stacks and fuck rap I had a name for makin' paper since paper mâché (c'mon) Now, my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play While you broke niggas reach drunk much quicker You don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor Went from god to goddamn Damn god, you're killin' it Should incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it Rap cats talk with no will in it Soundin' like they virtual, this joint'll hurt you, yo 'Twas the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed (what?) They did a job (uh-huh) Took all my goodies out from under the tree (word up) Except the CD's of shiny suit rappers and flossin' MC's Who fail at takin' it to rhyme degrees Man, you know, no wack poems get no play in our homes You need to not get nappy with me or else we gon' relax your mind Let your conscious be free Yo, where my Wall Street niggas, if ya up in the stands? Go Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh To my women that'll throw they hands against they punk ass man, go Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh Yo, if you never been shot or stabbed, Brick City, go Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh Yo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab, so I can smoke Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh (yeah, yeah, yeah) Yeah, yeah Yeah Straight outta Compton Hardcore motherfucker (ooh)
Writer(s): Kelvin Mercer, Allen Toussaint, Lalo Schifrin, Vincent Mason, David Jolicoeur Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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