God Lives Through

Lyrics

[Chorus] 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 [Verse 1: Phife Dawg] There's a million MCs that claim they want some But see, I create sounds that make your ears go numb Peace to Sayres Ave, yeah, you know how we go My best friend Steven at the Home Depot Laurelton is in the house, I can't forget Southside Walk past MCs like that girl did to Pharcyde I'm labeled as the cat's meow, the MC with the know-how Act like you know, not now, but right now Beast of the East, on MCs, I have a feast I'd eat that ass like quiche, crack a smile like Shanice Straight out Jamaica, seen? Jamaica, Queens But you could find me out in Georgia or anywhere in between Now, if my partners don't look good, Malik won't look good If Malik don't look good, the Quest won't look good If the Quest don't look good, then Queens won't look good But since the sounds are universal, New York won't look good Picture Phife losin' a battle, come on, get off it Put down the microphone, son, surrender, forfeit Did I hear somethin' 'bout a crew? What they wanna do? You better call Mr. Babyface, so he can bring out the cool in you Or it'll be a sad love song bein' sung by Toni Braxton And I'll dissect you like a fraction Oh, you wannabe top cat MCs? I'll pop you like a zit You wanna be the champ? You're more like Chief Some-shit Big up myself every time when it comes to this MCs be runnin' scared as if they watchin' The Exorcist I kick more game than a crackhead from Hempstead My styles are milk, man, you'd think that I was breast-fed You know the steelo when the diggy-Dawg is on the scene I dedicate this to all the MCs outta Queens That goes for Onyx, LL, Run DMC Akinyele, Nasty Nas, and the Extra P You peep the chart straight up and down, man, there ain't no other 'Nough respect to all my peeps that made the album cover Yo, Tip, don't worry none, you know I get the party jumpin' Get on the mic and break 'em off a lil', lil' somethin' Yo, Tip don't worry none, you know I gets the party jumpin' Get on the mic, my man, and break 'em off a lil' somethin' [Chorus] Ooh, la-la-la-la (Oh, my God, oh, my God) Shooby-doo-doo-doo (Oh, my God, oh, my God) La-la-la-la (Oh, my God, oh, my God) Shooby-doo-doo-doo (Oh, my God, oh, my God) La-la-la-la (Oh, my God, oh, my God) Shooby-doo-doo-doo (Oh, my God, oh, my God) You know I'm on the other for the Top 40 (Oh, my God, oh, my God) Haha, you gotta do it like this (Oh, my God, oh, my God) [Verse 2: Q-Tip] We got the funk doody don shit, clearly it's the bomb shit So recognize me, kids, memorize me Every day, I be scroungin', rarely, I be loungin' I play the down-low, very, very incognito Aries is my sign, I know that I can rhyme Sometimes, I rhyme in riddles, plus I make the honeys wiggle Intellect is the major, some heads like to wager The skills on the hill, overlookin' dollar bills Man, you're crazy, thinkin' you can phase me The Ab' doesn't study mere nonsense, money Life seems to need me, MCs seem too cheesy With they doody-ass renditions of defeatin' competition I rock to the roll, man, yes, I'm a soul man Bet your bottom dollar Vinia will make ya holla As you stand at attention, did I forget to mention? MCs will give me twenty if I sense that they act funny Lyrics are abundant, right there, I sound redundant Just mentionin' the fact that the area is phat I dwell in the under, so honey, it's no wonder That I get plenty of tail, well, I even get white I'ma bet hittin' head crack, there, money, take that Breakin' niggas off, cut the bank, then I'm off While my Nikes match my Lo hat, beat joint is mad phat Got the cutter of the box if a kid think he's ox For tier means creator, the poetry relator It's hemmed like Betsy Ross, let me tell ya who's the boss [Chorus: Q-Tip] La-la-la (Oh, my God) La-la-la (Oh, my God) La-la-la, smooth it out, y'all (Oh, my God) La-la-la (Oh, my God) La-la-la (Oh, my God) La-la-la (Oh, my God) La-la-la (Oh, my God) La-la-la [Outro: Q-Tip] Queens got a— Brooklyn got a— Bronx got a— Staten Island got a— Long Island got the zone Jersey got a— Philly got a— Milwaukee got a— L.A. got a— Oaktown got a zone La-la-la La-la-la La-la-la La-la-la See, I like to get down, jack