"The following presentation is rated R "

Hi-C

Uhh God damn Yeah

Hi-C

This my nigga DJ motherf**kin Quik

We gon' take this **** back to the Mixmaster days

And put it all in your jawmeat

And wiggle it around a little bit hahaha

YouknowhatI'msayin Party favors nigga

Ahh yeah y'all need a couple of 'em

We ain't playin witcho' *****-ass either

YouknowhatI'msayin Niggaz try to walk the walk talk the talk

But that bullshit ain't nothin man *scratches*

I said that bullshit ain't nothin man

*scratches: "aw niggaz niggaz "*

Niggaz can't do what we do "NO"

*"Bullshit ain't nothin man "*

Damn; so what you need to do is "stop stop stop stop STOP "

shut the f**k up and listen for a minute "Listen "

Pay attention - might learn somethin "Now LISTEN "

Don't you carry yo' ass in the studio f**kin wit dem boys neither

Or they put knots all UPSIDE ya motherf**kin head with the beats

That's my nigga Q I call him

"Quik Quik-Quik Q-Quik Quik-Quik"

Quik-a-lodeon "Too Quik "

Yeah huh Yeah "Quik-Quik-Quik-Quik-Quik-Quik-Quik"

Talk "Motherf**kin Quik" spit it

Yeah ooh Haha yeah

Now off of two-fifths of drank (drank drank)

They got yo' boy lookin for a ***** to spank (spank spank)

Baby you can kick it but ya sister cain't (nah nah)

Runnin 'round smellin like a septic tank (ewwwahh)

Girl you need to stop you know your ass is stank (stank stank)

Runnin 'round beggin all the baller for bank (bank bank)

Tryin to hit a lick but like that you cain't (nah nah)

Cause everytime your ass come around I faint (wooo )

People get to passin out;

I'ma give you one more chance but yo' ass is out

Now don't you bring yo' ass back smellin like raw trout (trout)

Cause everytime I see you I'ma bust you out

(Here she come look out )

And you niggaz with the demos (demos)

Man you just as bad as dem hoes (hoes)

Talkin bout your record comin out (out out)

But you need to put some gum in your mouth (hell yes)

Cause before I hear you rhyme or you get a beat from Quik

Shyheim Da Kid

Yo yo this Shyheim and y'all can suck my DICK

Son you owe me f**k the dough I want it in blood

You was my homey showed me nuttin but thug love

Put me on to the game bought me my first chain

Let me ride shotgun in your Benz and Range

I'm thinkin how this big nigga gon' go against the grain

Hit him up when it's foggy outside about to rain

It's about to rain teflon cop-killers

But we ride teflon can't-stop-killers

I thought you was fam 'til you switched the love

Now you rich and f**k you forget the thug

Heard you on the radio but I ain't get no plug

And if you come around the way I should get you stuck

I wish you luck I'ma make you kiss the gun

And I ain't gon' stop until my justice done

What you wanna be labelled as a coward or a duck

What powder you cut you wanted that building for what

When you rep that building what you said for that building

If it wasn't for me you woulda been DEAD in that building

You don't know what it feel like to say I own that building

Get dough in that building or control that building

You don't know that feeling you ain't condone that killing

Cause when the cops came you was like "Shy in that building"

I remember the days when you was shook in them buildings

You in front of these buildings frontin like you build them

When Scrams was home you was on his dick

And you gave that ***** money cause you always been a trick

You know Shy Da Kid I'm back on the block

Bought the crack in the spot spit back in the block

F**kin clap at the cops if I'm rappin or not

Whatchu gon' do nigga Shoot or get shot

I'm hot on the block like new glocks out the box

All y'all fulla ** at the bow( ) what

Talib Kweli

Yeah yeah yo

Kweli I'm rock this body and so forth and so on

You can get the dick one to grow on or one to blow on

Bet you Quik get his dough on I spit kick the flow on

Got swift **** I throw on cause I'ma leave what I float on

Plus I get my roll on like Baby and Mannie Fresh

After I go on y'all niggaz'll never bust like tantric sex

The universal nigga that represent the planet best

How I manifest from Brooklyn to Los Angeles - people

We hold this down like wherever you're from

Got my name all in your mouth like you pierced your tongue

Pimped the game so hard we leave them whores numb

The more I come Kweli I'm bout to blow like George Young

I'm the Don Cheadle of rap ** like arms and needles of crack

My lyrics attack and arm the people like gats

In Cali studios we rest the heat up on the console

Peep Hollywood niggaz who think it's sweet like Comanco

Claimin they gangster and street like they lookin for beef

But with a gun in they teeth they just MC's lookin for beats

Y'all don't want trouble we pop bubbles and flex muscle

Niggaz don't respect the lyrics they respect your hustle

The industry is like Kinko's makin copies while you wait

And the people always scream for NEW **** like Clue tapes

Y'all speed this in your face slow down like Screw tape

Cause as long as you rockin with Quik nigga you straight