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    Intro: Kamaal (Q-Tip)

    Phony rappers who do not write
    Phony rappers who do not excite
    Phony rappers, check it out, aight

    Verse One: Kamaal (Q-Tip)

    Yo, I was riding the train
    And this Puerto Rican kid said simple and plain
    Let's battle
    It kinda took me by surprised
    Cuz the brother was moving 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 be out cuz I got to see this hottie, he said ok
    Now 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
    Cuz yo, he thought an MC who was seen on TV
    Couldn't hold the shit down in New York City
    Aiyyo, I showed his ass, then I went off on my task
    To bless her ass Uptown, real MC's will hold it down
    Yea, yea, sonny, to the beat like that
    You wanna bring it to me, where you at

    Verse Two: Phife Dawg

    Yes, dread, I had a similiar situation
    When 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, grab my crotch and said balls
    Of course he tried to bring it on the battling tip
    Ay, you know me, you know I had to come out my shit
    Trying to lounge at the mall, meet Skef and Mr Walton
    Finally I banged his ass wit the verbal assault
    He said a rhyme about his .45 and his nickelbags of weed
    That's when I preceeded to give him what he needed
    Talking 'bout I need a Phillie right before I get loose
    Poor excuse, money please, i get loose off of orange juice
    Preferly Minute Maid cuz that's exactly what it takes
    To write a rhyme, huh, to school 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

    Verse Three: Phife, Consequence

    It seems there's a sanitation, y'all full of thrash talker
    Sounding good but money can you feed the dog hawker
    Talking 'bout your mic days and your breakdancing
    Not enhancing, you sound tired
    Oh, shit, I didn't know you like to play yourself in front'cha friends
    Sitting there, lying to no end
    MC's for me make things happening
    Talk about a world but in a form of rapping
    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 reach the MC's peak
    Let me stop sounding 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 jetta's

    C: Yo, Phife, you need a condom
    P: Word to God, mess around
    I catch Aids from Mc's being on my nuts too hard
    C: Cuz on my blvd you better bring your bodyguard
    P: And what's your blvd
    C: LP, I represent naturally
    P: So don't step on the rolly if you know that you're phony
    Or else I bend that ass like elbow macaroni
    Cuz I gotta keep it real (gotta keep it real)
    A Tribe Called Quest, you see we never half step
    C: (So on your mark) get ready, MC's be jetti
    Me and Phifey be on ya like Veronica and Betty
    Archie, Jughead, snuffing Mc's
    From Brainslane down to Hempstead
    P: Yes 'Quence, see over
    His rhyme style is older that a Chrysler car Nova
    I'm wilder then the cats from Arizona
    Villanova, un, un, Kentucky
    Whos' the next MC stepping up to try and bust me
    Bring him here and boy, will I ever let him have it
    C: And when it comes to the microphone, don't even try to grab it

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