Oh My God

Listen up everybody, the bottom line

I'm a black intellect but unrefined

With precision like a bullet, target bound

Just livin', like a hooker, the harlot sounds

Now when I say the harlot, you know I mean the hot

Heat in the equator, the brothers in the pot

Jalick, Jalick ya wind up ya hip

Draftin' of the poets, I'm the number seven pick

Licks, licks, licks, boy pon your backside

Licks, licks, licks, boy pon your backside

Listen to the fader, Shaheed let's it glide

Tip the earthly body, heaven's on my side

Even in Santo Domingo, man I gotta Gringo

Yo, we got mics, when do we go?

Know a little nigga who can rhyme when you ask me

Short, dark, plus his voice is raspy

One for the treble, two for the bass

You know my style Tip, now watch me rip this

I like my beats harder than two day old shit

Steady eatin' booty MCs like cheese grits

My man Al B. sure, he's in effect mode

Used to have a crush on Dawn from En Vogue

It's not like honey dip would wanna get with me

But just in case I own more condoms than TLC

Now the formula is this, me, Tip and Ali

For those who can't count it goes one, two, three

The answer, big up is who I who

Brothas find this hard to do but never me

Some brothas try to dis Malik, you see'm catchin' me

And I care 'bout them booty MCs, my shit be hittin'

Trainin' gladiator, anti-hesitater

Shaheed push the fader from here to Granada

Mister Energetic, who me, sound pathetic?

When's the last time you heard a funky diabetic?

I don't know man, I don't know man

I don't know man, I don't know, I don't know

Oh, my God, oh, my God

Oh, my God, oh, my God

Oh, my God, oh, my God

Oh, my God, oh, my God

Oh, my God, oh, my God

Oh, my God, oh, my God

Oh, my God, oh, my God

Oh, my God, oh, my God

Complimentary, The Thief of Poetry

I got a humdinger comin' hook, line and sinker

The Timbo hits with the prints underground

Timbo's on the toes, I love the way it's goin' down

Down like the lady of the evenin'

And when it goes in, honey, just believe the sin

'Cuz Queens is the county, Jamaica is the place

Take off your boots 'cuz you can't run the race

Oh, my God, oh, my God

Oh, my God, oh, my God

Oh, my God, oh, my God

Oh, my God, oh, my God

Oh, my God, oh, my God

Oh, my God, oh, my God

Oh, my God, oh, my God

Oh, my God, oh, my God

Oh, my God, oh, my God

Oh, my God, oh, my God

Oh, my God, oh, my God

Oh, my God, oh, my God

Oh, my God, oh, my God

Oh, my God, oh, my God