[Chorus: A Tribe Called Quest]
We be the number one motivators
Ghetto mentality and the innovators (–vators)
Some of y'all may really hate us
But we won't be sore, all we wanna do is rock
[Verse 1: Phife Dawg]
We be the crew that presents that old wicked instrumental
Damagin' your mental, from here to Sacramento
This here groove was made for vintage freestylin'
Feelin' like I'm chillin' on a Caribbean island
Rugged raw material is what we bring forth
A Tribe Called Quest — we representin' up North
What's that ya sayin' in the back? Actin' all silly
Kickin' freestyle raps, rollin' up Phillies
[Verse 2: Q-Tip]
It's the four-man fiasco, in charge like Roscoe
Now you get the picture like Picasso
We make it happen when these niggas start rappin'
Who this captain?
Stick out your hand, you gets no dap, and
I got the Razor, got the Phife, I got the Shaheed
Now, all you shorties, move your ass while you puff weed
Blessin' fans with autographs in my paths
While other rappers get gassed, they be defeatin' the task
[Verse 3: Consequence]
Yo, if I ruled the world...
It wouldn't be that gassed shit, niggas'd mix it like swirl
'Cause half of you G's ain't nothin' but Girl Scouts
And I'mma show you what it's all about
"Aww, yeah!" — that's what you say when my love's in your mouth
Without a doubt, I cut MC's like the cord
'Cause I does more than that MC from The Lords
While you be froggin' like Bud-wei-ser
And rappin' ain't what you slackin' in
I'm knockin' MC's outta action like abstinence
Rockin' since Kiss-My-Dick was kickin' that "Peachfuzz"
Cuz, you might be on drugs
[Chorus: A Tribe Called Quest]
We be the number one motivators
Ghetto mentality and the innovators
Some of y'all may really hate us
But we won't be sore, all we wanna do is rock the floor
[Post-Chorus: Q-Tip]
To all my people 'cross the state who sit back and contemplate
Motivate, uh, motivate
To all my people 'cross the land who get they feet stuck in sand
Motivate, uh, motivate, y'all
[Verse 4: Consequence]
A-yo, I stay with somethin' new, but not Granddaddy I.U.
Stay tuned, live from the L.B.Q
A-yo, it's just the same guy, swingin' on your block
You know how I get down like Heather B with them Glocks
I came to lead my team to victory like Hayden Fox
'Cause heads ain't ready for the Willie I got
Yanahmean, slim? I does my Thing like Ben Grimm
Leavin' crews in shades of black and blue like Rakim
And if you don't know, you better ask another
It's like 1-9-2 when we rollin' Deep Cover
So don't shut down on the Razor
'Cause in the 9-Live, we steppin' through hotter than the Trail Blazers
And in Queens, I be a legend like Richard Dean
Son, I got a scheme that Hakeem couldn't dream
While you be Sam Cassell'n, Queens keep it live
Who the hell you tellin'? (Can't front on the Tribe)
[Verse 5: Phife Dawg & (Q-Tip)]
Let me tell you why I be the top dog in the industry (Why's that?)
Because all these so-called mutts are not seein' me (Say word)
They too busy eatin' cycles 1, 2, and 3
They can't emcee, I'd rather be down with fuckin' Droopy D
My style is deadly, word bond, act like you fuckin' know
Been writin' rhymes ever since Ray Parker sang with Raydio
Your style is played out like a two-tone down goose
You couldn't Converse if you had fuckin' react juice
So hold your corner as I start to bless this mic in here
I'm eatin' through your crew like Stephen King's Langoliers
Try bite my steez — word to God, I'm gonna hurt you
(Will y'all fall off?) Will Laura fuck Urkel? Never!
Here comes the funk, smell the aroma
Kid, my shit's the bomb, ask my peeps in Oklahoma
[Outro: Q-Tip]
To all my peoples 'cross state who sit back and contemplate
Motivate, motivate, uh, motivate, y'all
To all my peoples 'cross land who get stuck in quick sand
Motivate, uh, motivate y'all
To all my peoples everywhere, throw yo' mitts in the air
Motivate, motivate, motivate, motivate
Can't do nothin' for your frontin', get involved and do somethin'
Motivate, motivate, uh, motivate, uh, motivate, uh, moti—
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