Oh My God

Lyrics

[Intro: Q-Tip] Ho-psh, ho-psh-psh Uh-uh, uh-uh, uh Uh, uh-uh, uh Uh-uh, uh Uh, uh, uh-uh [Verse 1: Q-Tip] Listen up, everybody, the bottom line I'm a Black intellect, but unrefined With precision like a bullet, target bound Just livin' like a hooker, the harlot sounds Now when I say the harlot, you know I mean the hot Heat of the equator, the broth that's in the pot Jalick, Jalick, ya wind up ya hip Draftin' of the poets, I'm the number seven pick (Uh) Licks, licks, licks, boy, pon your backside (Uh) Licks, licks, licks, boy, pon your backside (Uh) Listen to the fader, Shaheed lets it glide Tip the earthly body, Heaven's on my side Even in Santo Domingo when I got a Gringo We got mics, when do we go? Know a little nigga who can rhyme when you ask me Short, dark, and plus his voice is raspy (Phife) [Verse 2: Phife Dawg & Q-Tip] One for the treble, two for the bass You know the style, Tip, it's time to flip this I like my beats hard like two day old shit Steady eatin' booty MCs like cheese grits My man Al B. Sure, he's in effect mode Used to have a crush on Dawn from En Vogue It's not like honey dip would wanna get with me But just in case, I own more condoms than TLC Now the formula is this, Me, Tip and Ali For those who can't count, it goes one-two-three The anti— (Damn, right I'm s—) big up is who I be Brothers find this hard to do, but never me Some brothers try to diss, but Malik, you see 'em bitchin'? Me nah care about dem dibby MC, my shit is hittin' Trini gladiator, anti-hesitater Shaheed push the fader from here to Grenada Mr. Energetic, who me sound pathetic? When's the last time you heard a funky diabetic? I don't know, man, I don't know, man, I don't know, man I don't know, I don't know (Uh) [Chorus: Busta Rhymes] Oh, my God, yes, oh, my God Oh, my God, yes, oh, my God Oh, my God, yes, oh, my God Oh, my God, yes, oh, my God Oh, my God, yes, oh, my God Oh, my God, yes, oh, my God Oh, my God, yes, oh, my God Oh, my God, yes, oh, my God [Verse 3: Q-Tip] Complementary are we, the three for poetry I got a humdinger comin' hook, line and sinker The Timbo hoofs with the prints on the ground Timbo's on the toes, I like the way it's goin' down Down like a lady of the evening When it goes in, toots, just believe it's in 'Cause Queens is the county (Uh), Jamaica is the place (What?) Take off your cleats, 'cause you can't run the race (Race, race, race, race, race) [Chorus: Busta Rhymes] Oh, my God, yes, oh, my God Oh, my God, yes, oh, my God Oh, my God, yes, oh, my God Oh, my God, yes, oh, my God Oh, my God, yes, oh, my God Oh, my God, yes, oh, my God Oh, my God, yes, oh, my God Oh, my God, yes, oh, my God Oh, my God, yes, oh, my God Oh, my God, yes, oh, my God Oh, my God, yes, oh, my God Oh, my God, yes, oh, my God Oh, my God, yes, oh, my God Oh, my God, yes, oh, my God [Outro] The title MC means Master of Ceremony Some people who emcee don't know what this term means