[Intro: Redman] Alright everybody move back from the ropes If you don't move back we're gonna turn this music off And that's my word, move back! Word is bond let's get this sh** goin Word up, it's the Funk Doc in the house Say hell yeah! HELL YEAH! Say f** yeah! fu*k YEAH! Word up, it's the Funk Doc Spock you don't stop It's my man KRS you don't stop It's the girl Angie you don't stop With the hah haha ha haha hah!! [Verse 1: Angie Martinez] It's the bu*ter Pecan Rican speakin', deletin' Other radio jocks that think they competin' They pre-sweetened, like candy, I'm hot like pepper Big up to Sandy but my name is Angie Martinez, what a true microphone fiend is Steppin up lovely with MY, A...DIDAS Through your speakers, representin Boriquas, and all hip-hop rhyme seekers You may think I'm crazy right, but I'm crazy hype Slay this nice y'all, everytime Angie grab the mic I jams it right tonight, not the hardest But peep the style of this Puerto Rican Goddess [Interlude: Redman] Aiyyo yo yo yo, stop the music! Aiyyo back up off the ropes, man, word up! Yo get from the off the ropes Now aiyyo yo yo, KRS-One, come again the selector! [Verse 2: KRS-One] It's been a long time but we made it, you waited You gettin frustrated cause these MC's in trainin Sk**s on the mic for a royalty save it Pullin down rap so that others can't make it They can't fake it in front of KRS they naked That same old MC trend I'm here to break it The highly conceptional multidirectional Hot in ninety-seven so I guess I'm flexible Rap relieve stress so yes I guess it's medical All your wrecking and raping is still theoretical Redman, you know you must understand (Whatup?) Redman, you know you gots to understand (Hah! Whatup love?) Angie, rockin with the one BDP (Ha, haha) Representin right now at Hit Factory [Verse 3: Redman] One two hah, and you don't quit It's Kris and Angie with the ultimate One two hah, and you don't quack It's Funk Doc smoke weed and don't smoke crack Hahaha, hah, and you don't quit Hoohahhahah, and you don't quit I rock jams like, Samsonites with mics Stage two boomin system and flood the lights The lyrical, fo'-fo's lettin off like suppose Reggie Reg is rockin on the ra-dioooo! Hahh, huh, the oooh-child too chill Caps peeled, Someone In My Bed like Dru Hill Raise em up, cause I feel my spot can't be touched No time for the Pauline jack, hit the clutch Shotgun what?? It's the high exalted Ruler of the buddha, the cash make my pockets Stick out like a tumor, for the consumers I get busy with La Pluma, detonate the bomb To make you hibernate sooner, certified luna-tic My click run deeper than Charlie Tuna Kahunas, raw for the able key movers All over the hood like them Crooked I coolers Bang maneuvers, from Jerz to Vancouver Back to the Bronx with heartbeats ample looped up I Blastmast like Kris, funk abyss Like a phone chauvenist with a Roley on the wrist Sike! I can afford it, less I slaughtered Three platinum n***as and none of em prerecorded KRS-One need to be runnin for office So bu*ter Pecan Rican -- tell them to get off his