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Pete Rock and C.L. Smooth

Can`t Front on Me

548,00 прямо сейчас

Текст песни Pete Rock and C.L. Smooth - Can`t Front on Me

Pete Rock and C.L. Smooth - Can`t Front on Me слова песни

Ah, yeah, yesPsychedelicUh, come onThis is what I likeIt`s that Pete Rock and C.L. Smooth stuffUh huh, yeahBrothers can`t understandYou know I`m about to drop a funky beat on youLike this...Hit the war drums that vibrate the earth underneathHere my people and I come, gotta wake up the chiefNot a pale frail ghost, C.L.`ll wreck the mostCuz the Mecca land never had a Leo AfricanosThe Sudanian, master of the MediterraneanAnd if it`s lovely I`m the one you`re Skypagin`Lower than the Mole Man, R&B, you`re sillyThe only male hardcore crusin` through my cityRise to the supernova, swami like BolaHeavy hitter I consider Ueuker leanin` on my shoulderMeasure like a yardstick, thick at arithmeticYou add it up and I roast a high pick flickHit the pitch and then I`m gone as the funk lingers onI don`t publicize here to keep the black race tornBut steady at an altitude where you get the mental foodNot to be rude, here`s a fresh pot brewedOh, what a web we weave when we practice to deceiveSparkin` off a trick up the sleavePete stocked the bedrock, listen and you`ll seeAnd I`m sure you will agree you can`t front on meYo, you can`t frontIt`s like that, c`mon, yeahYes, you know I got to talkYou can`t frontI`m tellin` you nowC.L. Smooth and the Rock, c`monMany consumed what was locked in a tombThat I gradually groomed, coming out now smelling like perfumeSo take a whiff when I wrap a gift, play ya like a gospelA logical apostle, collosal (whoooweee!)Afro, a cut me like a fade with a BraunSport a bald head, but never needed Hair Club for MenDrop a SCUD, fully-capable, a form in a eclipseSkips to backflips soon as it leaves my lipsSuave know, I can make the funk turn the habitKick the old 45 and I can boogie on staticWelcome to the Brahma Don, pilgrimage to Mecca DonA prayer for the parish, Soucron AffwaunCuz ain`t no misbehavin` when they manage what you`re cravin`Put the "Anger in the Nation" on your stationAnvils that fills the whole circumferenceAnd black people crowd in a mass abundanceTo hear Gabriel`s horn, blow it like a NaijiWhat`s the flavor unit with the top priority?C.L., untouchable with the clip fullImpossibly, the posse can`t front on meDon`t you dare frontDon`t you dare frontNot on meCuz I`m the manC.L.`s the rhymerRight on timeRight on, my brotherCome on, kick another verse for meYou desire the messiah for the entire empireTotal organizer of the earth, wind, and fireC.L. and Pete Rock unlock the hard rockMany want to mock and the honey-dips clockIntercontinental for the residentialNever coincidental, rough on a rentalCount all the bars numericPro-prosthetic if ya let it resurrect the nongenericThe brother on the cover, yes, a rapper not a singerIf you recognize him, point with your index fingerShock another flock when I hit the blockGod or Devil on the set that`s level, labeled as a rebelIn retrospect I detect those incorrectAnd reflect the black power projectSupreme cuz I chose to never blasphemeGoing to the extreme, place it on a very high beamAnd drop jewels for five thousand fools who stampedeCuz the proper show stopper`s what ya needSo come and get a taste of the dynamic duoAnd I`m sure you will agree you can`t front on me (Yoooo!)You can`t front, boyCuz we`re the skilled fools (skibooze?)We`z are the funk The hardcore funkWe ain`t no jokeComin` out to noteAh, yeahWith the funk trackSing it, P.

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