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Текст песни A Tribe Called Quest - Scenario

A Tribe Called Quest - Scenario слова песни




Busta rhymes:Here in 1992, we present the fabulous whats the scenario remixWhere as there are 7 mcs.Six which are in physical form, one which is in spiritual essenceAnd he goes by the name of, uh...hood!Hood:Check the vibe, punk that ass again, godf it (shiitt!!) ! I lay buckshotsHood, madman, I rip up stagesLay down your wages, Im wild like larry davisExtra, extra, pick up a clip. Ill tear that ass out the frame (huh!)And grab my dick(oh!)By the beats that I bump, I kick and drop bombsIm rugged and deadly, so I shit on the pettyA musical badder bastard, Im bad newsIm crazy and clever, cut holes in crewsDeath on the phono, my skills are doloYou say oh no, you bitch ass homoI bag up waste, electrifying, Im primetimeI slaughter slime, Im the greatest of all timeSick ass brotha, nasty ass niggaPump slugs in your face and jump that ass in the riverTwo tears in a bucket, fuck it, kick the can (say what, say what!!!)Im a bad, bad manPhife:Quick is how I flip from the tip of the lipPunchin out hits like gladys knight and the pipsThe 5 foot assassin has just raided your areaYour booty rhymes are wack and thats the reason why Im hearin ya (so!)Pull out the red carpet cuz Im kickin thisVanilla ice platinum? that shits ridiculousExcuse my french, but profanity is all I knewAnd to you other sellouts, oh yeah, f you tooAnd let it be known, Im not the one to step toYou better off callin d-nice to your rescueFreestyle fanatic, probably the best aroundAs for corny mcs, like chuck d, I shut em downThe artical don of hip-hop and I wont stopThe 5 foot assassin has come to wreck nuff shopSo do like michael jackson and remember the time(do you remember? )Put on your dancin shoes or somethin cuz you sho cant rhymeMilo:(big up big up!) into new eternityNext was said somethin that complies onto meWhat does it take to check a technique (many styles, many styles!)Hostile heat brings forth the energyMilo in the dance is the new identityOne, two mic check, select for the ruffneckAt a 10 to 1 bet, I come correct!In my cyphers are blocks, I bring box to connect with knotsSo I can grow dreadlocksMaintain the rock dont stop the rock!!!)Maintain the rock (dont stop the rock!!!)Kick it right, then not, e. watt said notI put my mug up, so fair is fairSo c. brown are we in the clear? (yeah!)C. brown are we in the clear? (yeah!)Charlie brown:Makin moves yall (moves yall!)On and on and on (checka, check it out!!!)To the breaka, breakadawn (whos that? !? )Guess, one of the lons and a tribe called quest(east coast!) to westRemixed mad kick more than metallicaTo all ends like the battlestar gallacticaStampin, stompin, rompin compton(people all over the world!!!) Im promptin (style!)Pick a style, any style, strong isleRepresentation, sensationalizationScenario for the radio, bls and kiss, so(here we go, yo!) yeahForce, main source lp on the riseIn living color was seen through original eyesAnd Im out like shout, ooh ahh, ooh ahh(ooh ahh, ooh ahh!) there it is baby parDinco:Vine, limb on a limb, slim chimP I am, there I am (there I am!)Dont run from a blimSight be be right, be polite for mice like a mikeSee sick, see sykeAnd slip away and off to the poconosSpot bring the flows, might swing the fruity polesYamaha (yay-ha-may!)Lets split the funk, now it all spells (hey!)Enough, enough, misfitted Im with itIf I did it, I would split it and probably shouldnt have quitCuz yo, my public status act knight like gladysTake rest space tests and yo, Im like the maddestMale, not female, hail from unidelBounce the beat for the beat pole cuz beats are bein yelledIn the hallway always ringin with a ho!This is my 2 times 9 on the scenarioQ-tip:Check it out everybody, rhymes and micsBlack mens gettin hip, doin what they like!Eight black brothas in the public eyeIf you listen very close, then Ill tell you whyHood!, phife, milo, dinco and c. brownShaheed, myself and busta bust brownWill commence to rock (rock!), so bring on the flocks (flocks!)Interrogation for the knockin of the boxThe boom-box ruler controls the medulaNone come cooler, I win like shulaSo bust out the moves as you start to pursue herIntensified mind, non blunt consumerTip will come booty (well, its only a rumor!)The beat is so sick, that it starts brain tumors (tumors!)Peace to hood baby from the midnight croonerSmoke him up later, if not, then soonerBusta rhymes:Hey what we gon do! in 92, even though we had fun! in 91Quick to turn my day, all things comin downRun up on the new sound, leavin cracks in the groundWhats goin on my man (God damn!) and now my brain is hurtinBusta, rhythm will hit em, then I get emRip on em, shit on em, hit on em, then I will sit on emOpen up your mouth if you want the foodTake in full, flipmode, cuz Im in the mood, uh-heh, uh-hehYeah man, thats how it goesBody drippin with blood comin out your noseGive me a band-aid, what are you askin for? (more!)All in your secret and pureAdverse, they said, check it and I bust a new rapRap, busta rhymes, and bust this wicked rapYeah yall in 92, Im packin my ant spray (anyway!)Tickle it, tribe called quest, leaders of the new schoolMad brothas would still think...rhow, rhow, rhow!!!To my dragon, baby, stop whiningI see my influence still shiningMore crazy in 92, uh oh, time to go, yoThats the scenario!

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