the family And we want ya'll all to know that it's time To rock rock ya'll, freak freak ya'll To the beat ya'll, it's unique ya'll To rock rock ya'll
Tradução: A Tribe Called Quest. ¿Todos Rock Rock.
let 'em have it, fake fucks and faggots Bow down in the presence of players and kiss the karats A wrist full of (?) for all the maggots Back up and get
I think it's about time for y'all to give New York there shit back Y'all know where the crown belong, y'all know we started this shit You know we gave
A-Fella Records, we all behind you, you can come back anytime (Hah, thanks a lot) Wait a minute wait a minute wait a minute wait a minute Ace, turn that
feeling of A Tribe Called Quest But all they got left is this guy called West Better take Freeway, throw him on tracks with Mos Def Call him Kwa-lI or
y'all, Roots up y'all Roots is up Roots is up Roots is up y'all Roots is up y'all, Roots is up y'all Roots is up Roots is up Roots is up y'all Roots is
L-Y Where the {niggaz} and the {bitches} stay paid fly and high Where a slut'll get mad if you call her a {bitch} And a rat'll get mad if you call her
all from head, passin' round the mic Never even care who you sounded like Sound like Snoop Dogg, then you switched to Treach Bit the Pharcyde then A Tribe Called Quest
, all dime hoes on your list Huh, that shit would be nice but your name ain't Ice Nigga trip and screw the silencer on, rock you softly How you gonna
Yo, 'cause Jungle Brothers in the House And De La's in the house And Q-Tip from A Tribe Called Quest Ya, ya, ya, ya, you wanna all it Y'know 'cause I could give it all
a new rep Rap, Busta Rhymes, or bust this wicked rhyme Yeah y'all in '92, I'm packin' my roach spray, anyway Ding-A-Ling, Tribe Called Quest, Leaders
A.G. killing all the garbage going around, know what I'm saying? A.G. still got it going on, Showbiz got it going on. And we going to kick a little
feeling of A Tribe Called Quest But all they got left is this guy called West Better take Freeway, throw him on tracks with Mos Def Call him Kwa-li
didn't have to curse Yea, yea the Abstract poet Q-tip of a Tribe Called Quest Here to wreck, y'knowhatI'msayin Got my man Pete Rock and my man Heavy
-Y Where the {niggaz} and the {bitches} stay paid fly and high Where a slut'll get mad if you call her a {bitch} And a rat'll get mad if you call her
and get away I got a glimpse of your license plate N-W-A." Pink cookies in a plastic bag, gettin crushed by buildings Pink cookies in a plastic bag,
Afro-American, hit y'all with the realness, I don't hit y'all with the babblin Hit y'all with the songs, then I hit y'all with the battlin Drug traffickin
