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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Kay-Gee
DJ
Melvin Bliss
Sampled Artist
Queen Latifah
Sampled Artist
Treach
Vocals
Vin Rock
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Anthony Shawn Criss
Songwriter
Keir Lamont Gist
Songwriter
Vincent E. Brown
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Naughty By Nature
Producer
Angela Piva
Recording Engineer
Chris Gehringer
Mastering Engineer
Dae Bennett
Mixing Engineer
David Bellochio
Assistant Recording Engineer
Todd Sheerian
Assistant Recording Engineer
Lyrics
I'm telling you, I want this done quick, in and out
I want all that black market shit, everything
Grab all the tapes, all the cassettes
Who is it?
Where the shit? Everybody on the floor, nobody move
Where the shit? (Yo, Treach)
Yoke the joker
There are too many overnight MC's but one
And too many who haven't paid dues
You have now entered the frost of the Flavor Unit
And we, Naughty By Nature, will get our just do
By terminating you
I can snap, rap, pack, click-clack, patter-pat-pat
Take that ass to the point you have to ask for your ass back
A fuckin joker smoker, taunted by no one
If I was born in Chun Li's temple I would've turned out a shogun
Smack the any-and-all talk, jokers I can't hawk
And all that shit I hear about me losin is small talk
I ain't a punk or slouch and furthermore, I don't scare chief
The reason I called you 'pussy' cos you are what you eat, each
Lick is a little closer to the centre of a Blow Pop
Don't speak when I am talkin, this is my fuckin sho-op
How dare you even try me? Don't you know you'll be funky while
He's smilin backstage doin your mother, ugh, doggystyle?
I'm wild, raw, a whore and still suave
Check out this style that I've
Soul-simulated, sounds from a stocky
Semi-social, never seem sloppy
See, silly slappin suckers, sorry saps and slouches
Straps slam in style, smackin, this man's a savage
Least see so-so-songs and some shots, so
Snatch seven samples, start slowly, go solo
Set the cassette stereo, sounds diffin
Strip the Sagittarius and marriage is a system
Smoke the joker three times over
And owe her
Go with the flow or I'm about to yoke a joker
All that straight-faced shit like your heart had been through
Smile and give your face somethin the fuck to do
You ugly, smugly, squiggly, dilly-wrinkled faced bastard
Someone needs to hit-and-run it and run your ass over backwards
Let's giddy up, yep yep, another fuck up
Grab your microphone, battle time, sure 'nough
Any freestyle I see while I prowl
I dial a new style, tell me 'bout ooh, child
Another victory, it's mystery
I smoke your skull, your brain'll come blistery
All fuzzy, dirty, dizzy, does he
Get the fix he needs? Remember how blistery?
You ain't ready for the Freddy of rap
You can't kill me, I step into your dreams, you feel me
Slicin your life away, just like my mic today
I eat you the psycho way, I'm rippin shit right away
I treat you like a bitch in a ditch off of angel dust
Take you to a roof, sure you can fly, just jump slut
You think you might say a rhyme, then someone might order like
You couldn't wet shit up in a motherfuckin water fight
All lockjaw, look at the props, y'all
So proud of, sure, suck my encores
Swingin a bolo, your flow go solo
I'ma smoke ya
It's time to yoke the joker
The only way you would be gettin dissed, jumped like a girlie
Is if your father would've bothered to pull it out early
You ain't got a single drip drop, you're stripped of hip-hop
If I see ya disagree, you'll be gettin your shit dropped
It's extended version, the side you can't fuck with
You'll get the jimmy, MC, you're swift to kick the bucket
I'm tired of Mr. Nice Guy, place your price high
Bet on a battle rhymer, tell my chances are sky high
Never would you ever get the thrill to say, "Yo, sweat
Y'know that kid Treach, I took him out, he was no threat"
Because you know I'm better than that on my worst day
Dickin' competition's what I do in the worst way
Quick to do a hit for ya, most likely I spoiled ya
Or brought ya, ignored ya, then broadly floored ya
The proof is in the puddin, my collar ain't wooden
It takes more than an axe to tax, bless the children
Physically, facially, racially made to be
Crazily paid, a G, what a fuckin way to be
Hot damn, I'm a man with a hand plan
Pimp smack that, then attract the new game plan
Eat your big beef, digest the rest, test
Shit, I was slept yet, then go to the next step
That's what I do, that's what I say, that's what I live
That's what I prove, that's what I move, that's what I give
Makin other brothers wanna go home and write shit
Bite what I might get, then up and say, "I quit"
Me gettin got? Oh, what a beautiful thought from you
Ain't it amazing want some paper plus a pen and tongue can do?
Yoke the joker
Writer(s): Keir Gist, Anthony Shawn Criss, Vincent E. Brown
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com