[Q-Tip]

"Yo. Niggas be on the mic, they be all serious...

I'd love to be serious but... effortless shit.

Effortless... effa-efortless. Mmm-hmm.

Turn my music up, Duro. Yo, yo, you my hero.

Make the shit get loud-a. Even more in my headphones loud-a.

Uh. Sweetheart, shake yo' ass cheeks.

Bust it. Mmm-hmmm. Mmm-hmmm."



We gon' knock it down and put this

rock solid Amplified shit up.

Girl, it's like a sit-up.

So you betta send a letta to the betta.

We cut the bank and takin' all the bankin' chedda.

Girls get pretty-ed up,

then they comin' out the club. Rap cats, lock it up.

Worldwide vision where

everybody sees clear.

I could get you ten here.

Uh. Makes no fuss. Keep my shit plush.

Compliment, I get blushed. That's just how a brotha is.

Big Willy kids and we really run our jibs.

Ladies, breathe easy. Let your man please thee.

Uh. Takin' rhymes to another zone.

Is your mother home? 'Cause we can get the moans,

and stay strickly on a rhythemic notion, and

keep the joint close for the commotion and

keep movin' around. Movie stars.

Buy a little car, buy out the bar.





[Q-Tip (Meda Leacock)]

("All in...") ...for the people who move wit' me.

("All in...") ...for the nights of ecstasy.

("All in...") ...for the way we work and play, doin' it

everyday. This is how I need to be.

("All in...") ...for the people who roll wit' me.

("All in...") ...for the nights of ecstasy.

("All in...") ...for the people who work and play, doin' it

everyday. This is how I need to be.





[Q-Tip]

"Yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah, what?"

We do it alive, blowin' the spot of this.

Showin' to prove what rap is. ("What is it?")

Marauder, pass the blue moon.

Hit'chu wit' the ill tune.

Ass cheeks move wit' the help of my jacket bloom.

Insert the veteran

who consecutively come wit' shit yet again.

On the dance floor, chicks get horny.

Hopin' that they all move on me.

Word, for REAL for real.

Do it hard for the love of the game.

Pull your card and I'm askin' yo' name, bitch.

Jay-Dee be champion.

Tip be stylin' and definin' yo' chick, best compan-ion.

I'd advise you to fix your self, for real,

and do your shit wit' more zeal. ("More zeal.")

We in the mix and it's thickenin',

my rhyme and it's tickin' in.

The hatin' and the shit is so sickenin'.

Picasso, original. ("'Riginal.")

You forg-azy and the shit amaze me.

Sharpen your contrast and put a little color in it.

High Define your screen and put this brotha in it.




Visual Prostitution Lyrics
I can't look at the goddamned screen, Too many losers show no self-esteem Do me a favor don't abuse my eyes, You're telling lies - you're low! Tell them things they don't need to know A star for one day forgotten tomorrow Trying to get more self convidence Denude your soul - your low! Down - down - down Down with your pants Down - down - down Embarrassing self-defense What a fuckin' evolution - visual prostitution Shame on our constitution - visual prostitution