chocolate Plug up any mic I'll bet you Pete Rock'll spark it Hons always ask what's the bulge in my pocket? I tell 'em, papes, I rock them top to bottom
need to play the outside Guess who's on the flyer, the man of your desire Pete Rock and C.L. Smooth all the honey dips admire Beats are rough and rugged, Pete Rock
for landing and crash into a cellar Bodies in the Buddha cloud, misty in the tune Like a show all nights, a figure eight in a lagoon With Pete Rock,
flow But he signed it fast, for half of Johnny's Cash Nia Long ed for the album to drop, cameras flashed Tom Sawyer at the Lucille Ball up at the foyer
are whacked, he's mad so he's talkin' back Talkin' black, brainwashed from rock and rap He sags his pants, do-rags and a stocking cap His step-father
catch that Life preserver rope And then I'll be on a parallel ladder laughin like, Damn my man, for the love of Pete what happened And finally I step
set who's next to get wrecked Mr. Sweeperman, time to do the sweep up Brothers couldn't keep up, spendin too much time with their feets up Listen to
just let me have a say I still be spittin' regardless of the accolades Ya'll can take back the mics in The Source Take back the props from Pete Rock Quest
that I'm offering Sayin that Pete can't rock your city, (what) who, you make a fool Very often we win, yo very sudden we lose Spice rockin' yo whole mother
pep in ya step We made it cool to wear medallions and say hotep And this beat is suh'thin that you can't recover up from You better a-joinin the force
to remain in the creature shop Or you can chill in a c old chillin cell oh well, dont ask dont tell Don't rock the boat for petes sake no room for mistakes
in the grill.." "3rd Bass" "Kick em in the grill.." "I'm Chubb Rock" "Kick em in the grill.." "Serch!" "Kick em in the grill.. grill.. grill Pete!" [Pete
Daddy Rich is on the 1210 mix Scratch needs a itch like a needle does a stitch [Pete Nice] I switch up he flips up the wax with a mixer Bookmakers step
the court, observin what is all around The light goes up, my mic blows up, the silence is now sound Hearin and fearin, the momentum of the stutter step
whacked, he's mad so he's talkin' back Talkin' black, brainwashed from rock and rap He sags his pants, do-rags and a stocking cap His step-father hit
sin I won't tear the sack up Punk you'd better back up Try and play the role and the whole crew will act up Get up, stand up, come on! Come on, throw your hands up
in ya step We made it cool to wear medallions and say hotep And this beat is suh'thin that you can't recover up from You better a-joinin the force because