[Intro: Q-Tip]
Phony rappers who do not write
Phony rappers who do not excite
Phony rappers, check it out, aight
[Verse 1: Q-Tip]
Yo, I was ridin' the train
And this Puerto Rican kid said simple and plain: "Let's battle"
It kinda took me by surprise
'Cause the brother was movin' wit' his eyes on the prize
I said "Screw it, I ain't got nuttin to lose, but um
But I got to do this shit real quick, so um
Hurry up, kid, bust your joints and then I'll bust mine
And I'll be out 'cause I gotta see this hun", he said "OK"
"Yo, check it, check it out, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah", that's what he said
Then I came back and just fucked up his head
'Cause yo, he thought an MC who was seen on TV
Couldn't hold his shit down in New York City
Aiyo, I showed his ass then I went off on my task
To bless her ass Uptown, real MC's will hold it down
Yeah, yeah, sonny, to the beat like that
You wanna bring it to me? Where you at?
[Verse 2: Phife Dawg]
Yes, dread, I had a similar situation
Where this kid tried to tell me I didn't deserve my occupation
He said I wasn't shit, that I was soon to fall
I looked him up and down, grabbed my crotch and said "Balls"
Of course he tried to bring it on the battlin' tip
And you know me, you know I had to come out my shit
Tryin' to lounge at the mall, me, Skeff and Mr. Walt
And finally I banged his ass with the verbal assault
He said a rhyme about his .45 and his nickel bags of weed
That's when I proceeded to give him what he needed
Talkin' 'bout "I need a Phillie right before I get loose", poor excuse
Money, please, I get loose off of orange juice
Preferably Minute Maid
'Cause that's exactly what it takes to write a rhyme, huh
So screw your nickels and your dimes
Because an MC like me be on TV
Don't mean I can't hold my shit down in NYC
[Hook: Q-Tip]
Phony rappers who do not write
Phony rappers who do not excite
Phony rappers, you know they type
Phony rappers, check it
[Verse 3: Q-Tip]
It seems there's a sanitation, y'all full of trash talkers
Soundin' good, but money, can you be the dog walker?
Talkin' 'bout your mic days and your breakdancin'
Not enhancin', you sound tired and...
Oh, shit, I didn't know you like to play yourself in front'cha friends
Sittin' there, lyin' to no end
MC's for me make things happen
Talk about a world but in the form of rappin'
Who will be the captain of this ship?
If it goes down, don't you know you have to go wit' it?
Just because you rhyme for a couple of weeks
Doesn't mean that you've reached the MC's peak
Let me stop soundin' all bitter
Ghetto child, never be a quitter
But don't be a phony in the litter
Take it as a letter from the better
Take it from a man who used to rhyme in busted-ass Jettas
[Verse 4: Phife Dawg & Consequence]
Yo, Phife, you need a condom?
Word to God
Mess around, I catch AIDS from MC's bein' on my nuts too hard
'Cause on my boulevard, you better bring your bodyguard
And what's your boulevard?
L.B., I represent naturally
So don't step on the boulie if you know that you're phony
Or else I'll bend that ass like elbow macaroni
'Cause I gotta keep it real (Gotta keep it real) Yep!
A Tribe Called Quest, you see, we never half step
So on your mark, get ready, MC's be jetty
Me and Phife be hangin' like Veronica and Betty, Archie, Jughead
Snuffin' MC's from Brainslane down to Hempstead
Yes 'Quence, see over
His rhyme style is older that a Chrysler Cordoba
I'm wilder than the cats from Arizona
Villanova, uh, uh, Kentucky
Who's the next MC steppin' up to try and bust me?
Bring him here and boy, will I ever let him have it
And when it comes to the microphone, don't even try to grab it
What?!?!
[Outro]
“This feeling of embarrassment
This shyness, this bashfulness…
If you take that out of the people
Then these people will do whatever they want to do
And that is the very definition of America
A people who have no shame
And therefore, they do whatever they want to do"
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