A Tribe Called Quest - Hot Sex lyrics

Chorus Verse One: Phife Ayo who wanna pull on Phifer long time no hear from s**ers walkin' around talking about they could get some But that pop is non cypher, no can do And if you think I'm a dope, then ask the other crew And I proceed to let you know, exactly how to flow I'm not Lawn Doctor so just step off with the hoe Oops my mistake I didn't know you went with her Should I run down the line of the all the kids that done hit her Don't be bitter, I hear that honey resembles a critter I heard she likes to do one-one my man John Ritter But back to the subject you can't catch wreck You must get respect, to earn respect s**ers think they could herb me cuz know I wear specks You're full of jokes, but you your name ain't flex I got the riches, the b**hes, I'm large like a Huxtable You think you're all that but you're girl's quite doable Yeah, I'm tellin' you G, to back up off me I'm not a mad cohort, but I'm not Mr. Softee Rappin' is an art, coming straight from the heart So forget the chart because the action can start Chorus Verse Two: Q-Tip Where ya at? To all my peoples with the funk I'm the undercover brother dump your hoe in the trunk Save all the sad songs and the tearjerkers n***az step back it's the lyrical worker The poems that I create ain't in paper back books The poems that I create are for hookers and the crooks My mental is excelling cuz I dabble in the books I'm not the one to front on, so suboops-suboops Yo I gets the pickens, I'm such a damn Dickens If you step to this then the plot just thickens I'll run you around the track like a bunny and a dog To me, your just another MC on the log A link on the chain, fluid on the brain I boast of hype lyrics, and yours are mundane See I can't maintain, especially if you come back I'm the lyrical master blaster, yeah I can do that I can also do your girl, so leave the hoe at home Cuz when I get done, I'll have her strung on bones It's the no-joke pressure, that elevates my mind Makes me pick up and go when it's time to drop my rhymes My title is locked, the Abstract poetic I'm in the idle mode but my energy's kinetic So smooth and debonair, especially for the ear Gotta keep my thing in gear cuz it's evident and clear That I will rock, rock, rock (fades away) Chorus