[Intro: Q-Tip]
Woo, ha-ha-ha, grand groove, grand groove
It's the beat, ah yeah
Woo, ha-ha-ha-ha-ha, grand groove, grand groove
It's the beat, here we go
[Verse 1: Q-Tip]
Rough, rough, rugged, tough like a nugget
Listen to The Abstract Poetic, don't snub it
The midnight marauder is the hype beat arranger
Don't front on my lyrics or the tool 'cause it's danger
Hook you like a junkie, you'll flip like a monkey
To the openness of the rhythm, so proceed because I'm funky
I get down, down like a fly hooker's panties
Make you catch a spirit and motivate a fanny
I be the fly poet, rappers, they get jelly
Upset when I rock, 'cause yo, they rhymes are smelly
See, I got it going on like a Forbes tax return
Listening to these lyrics when it's hot will make you burn
Baby burn, baby burn, up into the heavens
The skies up above, the one you think of
Is the highly regarded, hell of a people
Your mic and my mic? Come on, yo, no equal (Word)
So if ya wanna do it to yourself
That is to mess around with the jazz, then just blame yourself
'Cause you made your bed, so now you lay in it
That's your shit on the floor, then go and play in it
I refuse to catch a "L" in a battle
'Cause yo, I got the jazz and I'll whup a rapper's ass
Into little next to nothin', test me if I'm frontin'
I'll pass with flying colors 'cause yo, I am that brotha that can rock
Woo, ha-ha-ha, grand groove, grand groove
It's the beat, ah yeah
Woo, ha-ha-ha-ha-ha, grand groove, grand groove
It's the beat, here we go
[Verse 1: Q-Tip]
Rough, rough, rugged, tough like a nugget
Listen to The Abstract Poetic, don't snub it
The midnight marauder is the hype beat arranger
Don't front on my lyrics or the tool 'cause it's danger
Hook you like a junkie, you'll flip like a monkey
To the openness of the rhythm, so proceed because I'm funky
I get down, down like a fly hooker's panties
Make you catch a spirit and motivate a fanny
I be the fly poet, rappers, they get jelly
Upset when I rock, 'cause yo, they rhymes are smelly
See, I got it going on like a Forbes tax return
Listening to these lyrics when it's hot will make you burn
Baby burn, baby burn, up into the heavens
The skies up above, the one you think of
Is the highly regarded, hell of a people
Your mic and my mic? Come on, yo, no equal (Word)
So if ya wanna do it to yourself
That is to mess around with the jazz, then just blame yourself
'Cause you made your bed, so now you lay in it
That's your shit on the floor, then go and play in it
I refuse to catch a "L" in a battle
'Cause yo, I got the jazz and I'll whup a rapper's ass
Into little next to nothin', test me if I'm frontin'
I'll pass with flying colors 'cause yo, I am that brotha that can rock
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