[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 riding the train
And this Puerto Rican kid said simple and plain: "Let's battle"
It kinda took me by surprise 'cause the brother was moving
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 got to see this hottie,' he said 'OK'
'Now 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 the shit down in New York City
Ayo, 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
When 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, grab my crotch and said balls
Of course he tried to bring it on the battling tip
And you know me, you know I had to come out my shit
Trying to lounge at the mall, me, Skeff and Mr. Walt
And finally I banged his ass wit 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
Talking '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
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 talker
Sounding good, but money, can you be the dog walker?
Talking 'bout your mic days and your breakdancing
Not enhancing, you sound tired...
Oh, shit, I didn't know you like to play yourself in front'cha friends
Sitting there, lying to no end
MC's for me make things happening
Talk about a world but in a form of rapping
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 reach the MC's peak
Let me stop sounding 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]
C: Yo, Phife, you need a condom
P: Word to God
Mess around, I catch AIDS from MC's being on my nuts too hard
C: 'Cause on my boulevard, you better bring your bodyguard
P: And what's your boulevard?
C: L.B., I represent naturally
P: 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
C: (So on your mark) Get ready, MC's be jetty
Me and Phife be hangin' like Veronica and Betty
Archie, Jughead, snuffing MC's
From Brainslane down to Hempstead
P: Yes 'Quence, see over
His rhyme style is older that a Chrysler Cordoba
I'm wilder then the cats from Arizona
Villanova, or, or, Kentucky
Who's the next MC stepping up to try and bust me
Bring him here and boy, will I ever let him have it
C: 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 do whatever they want to do."
