a tribe called khan

Music: boom gonzalez 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 was 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 you unball your fist For we put Hip-Hop on a brand new twist A brand new twist with a whole heap of mystic So low-key that you 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 you feel serene With the birds and the bees and all those groovy things Like getting stomach aches when you gotta go to work Or staring into space when you're feeling 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 Competition, dem try fi come side way But competition, they must come straight way Competition, dem try fi come side way But competition, they must come straight way How's about that? It seems like it's my turn again All through the years, my mic has been my best friend I know some brothers wonder, can Phife 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 Try to make hits like Kid Capri makes tapes 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 tend to rock But The Low End Theory's here, it's time to wreck shop I got Tip and Sha' (Huh), so whom shall I fear? (Word) Stop, look, and listen, but please don't stare (Uh) So jet to the store, and buy the LP (Yeah) On Jive/RCA Cassettes and CD's Produced and arranged by the four-man crew And, oh shit, Skeff Anselm – he gets props too (Ha-ha) Make sure you have a system with some fat house speakers (Yeah) So the new shit can rock (Uh), from Bronx to Massapequa (Uh) '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 (Yeah), and peace to this crew (Yeah) Bring on the tour, we'll see you at a theater nearest you Hey yo, but wait, back it up, hup, 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 mind Now I gotta scat and get mine, underline The jazz