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    Verse One: Phife

    Ayo who wanna pull on Phifer long time no hear from
    Suckers walkin' around talking about they could get some
    But that pop is non cypher, no can do
    And if you think I'm a dope, then ask the other crew
    And I proceed to let you know, exactly how to flow
    I'm not Lawn Doctor so just step off with the hoe
    Oops my mistake I didn't know you went with her
    Should I run down the line of the all the kids that done hit her
    Don't be bitter, I hear that honey resembles a critter
    I heard she likes to do one-one my man John Ritter
    But back to the subject you can't catch wreck
    You must get respect, to earn respect
    Suckers think they could herb me cuz know I where specks
    You're full of jokes, but you your name ain't flex
    I got the riches, the bitches, I'm large like a Huxtable
    You think you're all that but you're girl's quite doable
    Yeah, I'm tellin' you G, to back up off me
    I'm not a mad cohort, but I'm not Mr. Softee
    Rappin' is an art, coming straight from the heart
    So forget the chart because the action can start


    Verse Two: Q-Tip

    Where ya at? To all my peoples with the funk
    I'm the undercover brother dump your hoe in the trunk
    Save all the sad songs and the tearjerkers
    Niggaz step up it's the lyrical worker
    The poems that I create ain't in paper back books
    The poems that I create are for hookers and the crooks
    My mental is excelling cuz I dabble in the books
    I'm not the one to front on, so suboops-suboops
    Yo I gets the pickens, I'm such a damn Dickens
    If you step to this then the plot just thickens
    I'll run you around the track like a bunny and a dog
    To me, your just another MC on the log
    A link on the chain, fluid on the brain
    I boast of hype lyrics, and yours are mardane
    See I can't maintain, especially if you come back
    I'm the lyrical master blaster, yeah I can do that
    I can also do your girl, so leave the hoe at home
    Cuz when I get done, I'll have her strung on bones
    It's the no-joke pressure, that elevates my mind
    Makes me pick up and go when it's time to drop a rhyme
    My title is locked, the Abstract poetic
    I'm in the idle mode but my energy's kinetic
    So smooth and debonair, especially for the ear
    Gotta keep my thing in gear cuz it's evident and clear
    That I will rock, rock, rock [fades away]


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