Phony Rappers

Phony rappers, who do not write
 Phony rappers, who do not excite
 Phony rappers, check it out, a'ight
 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, "Okay"
 "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?
 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
 Phony rappers, who do not write
 Phony rappers, who do not excite
 Phony rappers, you know they type
 Phony rappers, check it
 It seems there's a sanitation, y'all full of trash talker
 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
 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?
 ♪
 "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"