3 MCs feat. Q-Tip
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Hey yo, MC and Ma, people call me Man
I'm everywhere like air so watch as I expand
Live and direct from out the Flatbush lands
'Cause I got more rhymes than the beach got sand
Well yo, MC and Ma, people call me Al
Can't forget the double E, major I rock well
In '86 used to sport Pumas with Gazelles
'96, Yo, I just rock mics and excel
Hey yo, MC, AB, people call me AB
See me on Jamaica Ave. sippin' half and half
I got a special issue mic that's guaranteed steal
Bustin' rhymes at the crowd to make sure they feel
Us three MCs
Yeah, we hold these mics tight
We the three MCs
We do it right every night
With a scratch, and a cut
We 'bout to tear shit up
Well it's a combination, the wickedest three
And a big request to the real MCs
And a, the music is for you and me
And a, we run things and we don't go easy
See, most of y'all really do not know how you should operate
You need to contemplate 'cause you really cannot stop the weight
Just cooperate, let me select the path
You do not know the half simply 'cause you don't know the math
On how to automate the track, so follow the leader
The non-ether, rappers get split like amoeba
By the fire-breather, get burned beyond recognition
It's Mr. Man the acrobat, we blurrin' up your vision
I pack a .45 caliber, hollow tip pen
Make 'em say, "What happened when he be rappin'?"
Make a move, son, I kill bystanders and all
Check the autops', the words that I drop in the skull
If you want it, then come draw, pull out your best rhyme
Make your same gunfinger turn into peace sign
Went to El Segundo, came back with Timbs wallet
Hip-hop puritan, show these niggas how you drop tracks
We 'bout to drop it like the Pharcyde or Reggie Miller
Camouflage on, rescue and rap gorilla
Tricklin' down, verb, noun cascade
Precious as jade, never heard the word fade
Positive vibes is way too influential
Wack rhymesayers need to keep it confidential
Kick it up like tornadoes, trash cats get tomato
Beat you like Bruno, watch your eye get potato
It was a Friday night and no moves was bein' fakin'
And the people was breakin' and the house was shakin'
And it won't be long 'til everybody knowin'
That the three MCs was on the mic goin'
That the three MCs was on the mic goin'
Yo, yo, check me out, boy, in high speed or slow-mo
Came down to Earth to rock this ill promo
Never sound wack on tape 'cause that's a no-no
So turn me up loud and put the needle to the mono
With all of these pimps, players, mafiosos and thieves
Make me wonder is there any room for just an MC
Same shit, different beat, can't take it no more
You and your man bought the same rhyme from the same store
Y'all bought it from the same store and
Kicked the rhyme until your throat sore
Now we got to up the ante much, much more
Allah put us all here for a reason, we 'bout to change the seasons
From these three you'll never smell treason
If you don't get it now, I guarantee you'll get it later
I make the planet bounce from the poles to the equator
Peninsulas, every island and the continents
I grab the mic and add flavor like condiments
Us three MCs
Yeah, we hold these mics tight
We the three MCs
Yeah, we keep it right all night
With a scratch, and a cut
We 'bout to tear shit up
Well it's a combination, the wickedest three
And a big request to the real MCs
And a, the music is for you and me
And a, we run things and we don't go easy