De La Soul: Stix & stonz

Chorus: All If you can dig it, deal with it, if you can't, just forget it Cause nobody rocks the party like we Get loose, get loose, Sunshine get loose Just rock, and show 'em you got juice And have, have, have, have, have, have, have fuuuuuuun! Verse 1: LA Sunshine I know it's been a while since the last time You're heard LA Sunshine pick up the microphone and rhyme But now I think it's time to go for mine So you can sit back, relax, just max and unwind Because it's time for me to out a few heads to bed Because I'm upset at what somebody said I've heard it through the grapevine it's been said That Sunshine, can't rhyme? Ha! That's the funniest line that I heard in a long time The wanna be me's that they I sound off beat I'm not off beat, I'm totally unique and it sounds real sweet So if you're ready, get set for a trip to the sun You'll be guided, and I've decided to become One to take total control of your soul Young or all be bold because it's a sight to behold Chorus: Sticks and stones might break your bones but Pos is gonna blow your mind Ain't no need to hold it (Let it go!) Just one more time! Verse 2: Posdnuos Now you can bet that I'm first kick a watt Soul son, Plug One, Posdnuos I'm top notch Forward, backstep, got cabbage on the brain So I'm leafy, peasy, and I act kind of sane So homeboys and girls just come follow me I'm the fried pipe piper down with dub and Plug Three I like my mans, freestyle is not my flow But I gets mad respect from Norfolk to Glasgow I run this up to court about a minute to the sec Cause my hoodie won't clash with Whipper Whip's mockneck So my hip-hop teachers please show me the math And after this give me your goddamn autograph Chorus: Whipper Whip, you can make the microphone sing Walking around sporting your diamond ring All the ladies know you as an MC king So get on the mic and tell 'em it ain't no thing Verse 3: Whipper Whip Well the Prince is my title and, I do what I must do When rappers get beside themselves, that's when I bust two Or three, see it doesn't matter to me Cause the W-H-I-P's got an army Whipper Whip, the Whipster, money gripster Can't stand the tipster unless she got the hips to Move a mountain, left on Kingsly and Fountain 1345 is where I used to count them The grips in my bucket's the kind that choke horses No more losses and no toy mosses It's the Kings of Kingsly, from Bronx to Hollywood I'm Whipper Whip, I but the G in "good" Yo I can blow like a whistle, run far beyond average Been rapping to the man like Randy Savage You be the judge, come stand as I slam some There's open invitation to all and then some Chorus: Sticks and stones might break your bones but JD Dub is gonna blow your mind Ain't no need to hold it (Let it go!) Just one more time! Verse 4: Dove I kick the Chatanooga Choo Choo so listen to the calling Next stop's the body rock, here's the ticket to my clock It's the flips, but keep your jaws on your hips >From back in the days I used to air it to the hits Earn the dance step and guaranteed to play the wheel to wheel And Wild Style was the real, dig it? I block the heckles and hecks and gets nuff respects Without the "bah diddy bah" I couldn't go and cash checks Chorus: DJ Mase, since you got the bass, why don't you hit it, hit it? Hit it, hit it, hit it, hit it! The do re, the mi phi, the sol la, the Tito Rocking it, rocking it, yes he is rocking it Tito, rocking it! Verse 5: Tito Smiggity smoking, no joking, turning styles like a token No singer, but swinging rap lyric like a ringer I'm solo, like Bobo, breaking backs like Bolo No kitten, no hitting booby traps for the sitting Ducks should I mention rhyme breezing like Benson Or hedges, I'm fuming autographs for the human Being, I'm g-ing, off like keying Or Keenan, live Ivory, Waynan, who's slaying? A TV or movie, hit singles often move me Like groove me, they got me lingers like a ??? No slipping, no tripping on me while I'm ripping Slam dunking like a donut on the Bulls Scottie Pippen A vocab that's no fad, I'm Heftier than Glad bags My son's about 2, buckaroo and yelling "Go dad!" Chorus: Sticks and stones might break your bones but Superstar's blows your mind Ain't no need to hold it (Let it go!) Just one more time! Verse 6: Superstar I get the honor to rap with some old school greats Caz, Whipper Whip, Tito, and LA Maseo, Posdnuos, Trug, they from the new school A perfect blend from the old and new Superstar, where did I fit in? How did I get in? Where did I begin, sin? I'm known from Belcourt to Freeport, not a West Coast or Five Boroughs Yeah, my name's whispered in the ghettos When I'm on stage, I write a book, flip a page Write a chapter, and leave a hell of a phrase Now, before I go, you know that I'm a pro, yo You won't forget me, why, because I flow Chorus: So GMC, ha, GMC, ha ha, GMC ha, GMC, ha ha GMC, ha huh! (Yo my throat is sore) Yo, get on the mic, stay on the mic (dammit) Rock on the mic with your rhymes galore! Verse 7: Grandmaster Caz Well I'm a black act back to attack the wack New Jack Smack the sad sack track with the stack of facts True old data, see you later alligator Raid or raider Darth Vader, cause I'm greater or rater Made a plate of soul food, barbequed a rude dude with the attitude Who got screwed cause he chewed But I'm a writer, you can't take a bite of So light up your lighter and watch me recite a Dope verse or two with the curse or two, yeah rehearse a cue But first a few minutes of funk, preferably seven Microphones, all I need is one MC's to school, ten or eleven then a bottle of Don When the job is done, but don't stop me now I'm on a roll, control the whole stroll And bowl the whole toll, fold the known souls Patrol shoot the fruit, toot toot the hoot Scoot with the loot and knock a cute suit boots Entertain your brain like Kane, not strain to maintain my main (shit) stain Walls record us, break through the borders All the manslaughters and kidnap daughters Who are building and chlling in the building with a villian I'm killing and illing but still in like Bob Dylan I'm Democratic emphatic erratic static I'm good at it And suckers get gatted with the automatic Rhymes are plenty, styles are many Yeah, and that's as real as Jimmy sticking Jenny If anybody knows a trick to slip my wig With a lick or real sick with a lyrical brick He's a vick bound to get tracked off Step to the Grandest and you'll get slapped off Stage, and thoroughly stomped with the quickness Now can I get a witness, cause I'm out