Oh My God (Remix)

Lyrics

[Chorus: Q-Tip] 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: 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 in the equator, the brothers in the pot Jalick, Jalick ya wind up ya hip Draftin' of the poets, I'm the number 7 pick Licks, licks, licks boy pon your backside Licks, licks, licks boy pon your backside Listen to the fader, Shaheed lets it glide Tip the earthly body, heaven's on my side Even in Santo Domingo, man, I got a Gringo Yo, we got mics, when do we go? Know a little nigga who can rhyme when you ask, B Short, dark, and plus his voice is raspy [Verse 2: Phife Dawg | Q-Tip] One for the treble, two for the bass You know my style, Tip, now watch me rip this I like my beats harder than two day old shit Steady eatin' booty MC's 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 ... big up, it's who I be Brothas find it's hard to do, but never me Some brothas try to diss Malik — you see 'em catchin' me? Not care about them booty MC's, my shit be hittin' Trini gladiator, anti-hesitator Shaheed'll push the fader from here to Granada Mister 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, what, it go... [Chorus: Q-Tip] 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 3: Q-Tip | Phife Dawg] Complimentary, are we, the thief of Poetry I got a humdinger comin' hook, line and sinker The Timbo hoofs with the prints underground Timbos on my toes, I love the way it's goin' down Down like a lady of the evenin' And when it goes in, honey, just believe it's in 'Cause Queens is the county, Jamaica is the place (Take off your cleats 'cause you can't run the race) Yeah, this is how we do when we keep it on and on Do it... break of dawn Got my man Big Mo with the streets and the freaks My man Big Mo with the streets and the freaks This is how we do when we keep it wild in the sheets 'Cause we got to do it like this, we aim to please See ya next LP and next CD, and next cassette Yo, we about to jet [Outro: Q-Tip] We A Tribe Called Quest and we the Midnight Marauders Tribe Called Quest and we the Midnight Marauders See ya next time 'cause we the Midnight Marauders Ayo, we out 'cause we the Midnight Marauders Go to the record store and get the shit We work hard on it We A Tribe Called Quest and we the Midnight Marauders Queens got a zone, and Brooklyn got a zone Like that