[Production by Robert Brown & DJ Clash]
[Intro: Mister Cee]
I be the cruddy one that they call the DJ Mister Cee
With the whole Wolf Pack in the place to be
Better known as the Chocolate City
So Scoob Lover, huh, are ya with me?
[Verse One: Scoob Lover]
Yo, I break punks up like a fight. Give me the mic, I'm hype
(Damn kid, you're starvin' for life)
Cause people be tellin' me, brothers be gellin' me
Tryin' to get fame from my name but they chumps and they Butt-soft
They know I'm wilder than a dog with hot sauce
A mic, a stage, a crowd, and I won't stop:
I set it off and get live like an alarm clock
People thought Scoob and Scrap was just a nickname;
Now that we rap, we sell more records than cocaine
Awww, shucks, now I'm back from the down-low
Here comes Scoob with the curly afro
No chemical reaction, no need for askin', pure satisfaction
My last name's Jackson
You slip up, I get ill -- my boot to your grill
My nine kills, I'm Big Scoob from Brownsville
The world's greatest lover, the chaaaaa-clate brother...
[Chorus]
Who's the committee? (CHOCOLATE CITY!) 3x
Scrap Lover are ya with me?
[Verse Two: Scrap Lover]
Yo, I drop science kinda like a pigeon;
Over rough tracks I tax any midget with a small digit
Smooth and mild but complicated
I put the crowd to to smashed like a driver that's intoxicated
Rappers write rhymes, and talk about guns and jail
But wouldn't squeeze a lemon in a cocktail
Don't say "huh?" or "what?", and don't ask who
Cuz if you hear me, I must be talkin' to you
You probably thought I couldn't steal it, cuz I was a dancer
I didn't have a chance, but ya'll can kill it
You gotta be off your rocker
I'm lettin' suckers know that Scrap got more soul than Foot Locker
And if you heard I got skills, believe it's true;
Suggest for Pete Rock, for reminiscin' over you
It's not a threat, it's a bet, cuz hey
The last sucker who tried woulda been 25 today
[Chorus]
Who's the committee? (CHOCOLATE CITY!) 3x
Big Daddy are ya with me?
[Verse Three: Big Daddy Kane]
Yo-yo-yo-yo, look out, get out the way!
Here comes the K the A the N the E -- huh, ya better flee
Cuz I don't need no hoodie to be hard, shoot:
I'll kill a nigga in a three-piece suit
I don't be havin' it so the rear I'll attack
A size-15 to the buttocks, a-matter-fact
A hard-core blow to the face I'll provide
To give you a Crooked eye, just like St. Ides
Leave you home and you must be screamin' and yellin';
Not even Kool Moe Dee shades can hide your swellin'
I bring it rough, tough;
I said that I was Browner than Bobby, so you know that it's good enough
I'm untouchable to rappers my size
You dreamed of beatin' me, you better wake up and apologize
Some claim to be a Daddy or Poppa
But with me, you'd have no Ranks if your name was Shabba
[Chorus]
Who's the committee? (CHOCOLATE CITY!) 3x
Now you know you'd too like to be with it...
[Verse Four: Li'l Daddy Shane]
Shane, I cause pain, I make it rain
I'm wearin' and tearin' down to the last grain
Ha, I'm not a chocolate brother, but I dont' mourn
Cuz I swear this vanilla kid got it goin' on
So don't even step to me if you're worth nothin'
Because I just might hurt somethin'
My competition thinks twice, cuz yo, for a young nigga, I'm kinda nice...
[Laree Williams, singing]
Ooooooooooooohhhh! Chocolate City are ya with meeeee?!
Scoob and Scrap and Mister Cee! Kane and Shane and Laaaarrrrreeeeeee!
Kaaaaaane....would your black ass sing it for mee-heee?!
[Kane] Ohhh, ho, shit yeahhhh! [laughter]
