Jazz (We've Got)

We've got the jazz
 We've got the jazz
 We've got the jazz
 We've got the jazz
 We've got the jazz
 We've got the jazz
 We've got the jazz
 We've got the jazz
 Stern firm and young with a laid-back tongue
 The aim is to succeed and achieve at 21
 Just like Ringling Brothers, I'll daze and astound
 Captivate the mass, 'cause the prose is profound
 Do it for the strong, we do it for the meek
 Boom it in your boom it in your boom it in your Jeep
 Or your Honda or your Beamer or your Legend or your Benz
 The rave of the town to your foes and your friends
 So push it, along, trails, we blaze
 Don't deserve the gong, don't deserve the praise
 The tranquility will make ya unball your fist
 For we put hip-hop on a brand-new twist
 A brand new twist with the homie-alistic
 So low-key that ya probably missed it
 And yet it's so loud that it stands in the crowd
 When the guy takes the beat, they bowed
 So raise up squire, adjust your attire
 We have no time to wallow in the mire
 If you're on a foreign path, then let me do the lead
 Join in the essence of the cool-out breed
 Then cool out to the music 'cause it makes ya feel serene
 With the birds and the bees and all those groovy things
 Like getting stomach aches when ya gotta go to work
 Or staring into space when ya feelin' berserk
 I don't really mind if it's over your head
 'Cause the job of resurrectors is to wake up the dead
 So pay attention, it's not hard to decipher
 And after the horns, you can check out the Phifer
 We've got the jazz
 We've got the jazz
 We've got the jazz
 We've got the jazz
 We've got the jazz
 We've got the jazz
 We've got the jazz
 We've got the jazz
 Competition, them Phifer come sideway
 But competition, they mus' come straightway
 Competition, them Phifer come sideway
 But competition, they mus' come straightway
 How's about that, it seems like it's my turn again
 Althrough the years my mic has been my best friend
 I know some brothers wonder, can Phifer really kick it?
 Some even wanna diss me, but why sweat it?
 I'm all into my music 'cause it's how I make papes
 Tryin' to make hits, like Kid Capri mixtapes
 Me sweat another? I do my own thing
 Strictly hardcore tracks, not a new jack swing
 I grew up as a Christian so to Jah I give thanks
 Collect my banks, listen to Shabba Ranks
 I sing, and chat, I do all of that
 It's 1991 and I refuse to come wack
 I take off my hat to other crews that intend to rock
 But The Low End Theory's here, it's time to wreck shop
 I got Tip and Shah, so whom shall I fear
 Stop look and listen, but please don't stare
 So jet to the store, and buy the LP
 On Jive or RCA, cassettes and CD's
 Produced and arranged by the four-man crew
 And oh shit, Skeff Anselm, he gets props too
 Make sure you have a system with some phat house speakers
 So the new shit can rock, from Mars to Massapequot
 'Cause where I come from, quality is job one
 And everybody up on Linden know we get the job done
 So peace to that crew, and peace to this crew
 Bring on the tour, we'll see you at a theater nearest you
 Ayo but wait, back it up, huh, easy back it up
 Please let the Abstract embellish on the cut
 Back and forth just like a Cameo song
 If you dig this joint then please come dance along
 To the music 'cause it's done just for the rhyme
 Now I gotta scat and get mine, underlined
 The jazz, the what? The jazz to move that ass
 'Cause the Tribe originates that feelin' of pizazz
 It's the universal sound, best to brothers on the ground
 And the ones six below, ya didn't have to go
 Some say that I'm a sinner 'cause I once had an orgy
 And sometimes for breakfast I eat grits and porgies
 If this is a stinker, then call me a stink, I ask
 "Whas-whas-what" check it out
 All my peoples in Queens, ya don't stop
 Now all my peoples in Brooklyn, ya don't stop
 And all my peoples uptown, ya don't stop
 That includes the Bronx an' Harlem, ya don't stop
 Now to that girl Ramelle, ya don't stop
 I say because Ladies First, ya don't stop
 And to the JB's, ya don't stop
 And De La Soul, ya don't stop
 To my Brand Nubians, ya don't stop
 And to my Leaders of the New, ya don't stop
 To my man Large Professor, ya don't stop
 Pete Rock for the beat, ya don't stop
 Everybody in the place, ya don't stop
 Ya keep it on, to the rhythm, ya don't stop
 And last but not least on the sure shot
 It's the Zulu nation