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Revised Quest For The Seasoned Traveller

1992

Check The Rhime

Mr. Muhammad's Mix
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Lyrics
Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh
Check the rhyme

Back in the days on the Boulevard of Linden
We used to kick routines and the presence was fittin'
It was I, The Abstract
And me the five footer
I kicks the mad style, so step off the frankfurter
Ayy, yo, Phife, you remember that routine
That we used to make spiffy like Mr. Clean?
Um, um, a tidbit, um, a smidgen
I don't get the message so you gots to run the pigeon
Okay, you on point, Phife? All the time, Tip
You on point, Phife? All the time, Tip
You on point, Phife? All the time, Tip
Ayy, yo, so let me get down, and let me drop my lip

Now here's a funky introduction of how nice I am
Tell your mother, tell your father, send a telegram
I'm like an Energizer 'cause, you see, I last long
My crew is never ever wack because we stand strong
Now if you say my style is wack that's where you're dead wrong
I slayed that body in El Segundo then Push it Along
You'd be a fool to reply that Phife is not the man
'Cause you know and I know that you know who I am
A special shout of peace goes out to all my pals, you see
And a middle finger goes for all you punk MC's
'Cause I love it when you wack MC's despise me
They get vexed, I roll next, can't none contest me
I'm just a fly MC who's five foot three and very brave
On job remaining, no I'm chaining 'cause I misbehave
I come correct in full effect, have all my hoes in check
And before I get the butt the jim' must be erect
You see, my aura's positive, I don't promote no junk
See, I'm far from a bully and I ain't a punk
Extremity in rhythm, yeah, that's what you heard
So just clean out your ears and just check the word

Check the rhyme, y'all, check the rhyme, y'all
Check the rhyme, y'all, check the rhyme, y'all
Check the rhyme, y'all, check the rhyme, y'all
Check it out, check it out
Check the rhyme, y'all, check the rhyme, y'all
Check the rhyme, y'all, play b-ball
Check the rhyme, y'all, check the rhyme, y'all
Check it out, check it out

Back in the days on the Boulevard of Linden
We used to kick routines and the presence was fittin'
It was I, the Phifer, and me, The Abstract
The rhymes were so rumpin' that the brothers rode the 'zack
Ayo Tip, do you recall when we used to rock (what?)
Those fly routines on your cousin's block?
Um, let me see, damn, I can't remember
I receive the message and you will play the sender
You on point, Tip? All the time, Phife
You on point, Tip? Yeah, all the time, Phife
You on point, Tip? Yo, all the time, Phife
So play the resurrector (yeah) and give the dead some life

Okay, if knowledge is the key then just show me the lock
Got the scrawny legs but I move just like Lou Brock
With speed, I'm agile, plus I'm worth your while
One hundred percent intelligent black child
My optic presentation sizzles the retina
How far must you go to gain respect? Um
Well, it's kind of simple, just remain your own
Or you'll be crazy sad and alone
Industry rule number four thousand and eighty
Record company people are shady
So kids watch your back 'cause I think they smoke crack
I don't doubt it, look at how they act
Off to better things like a hip-hop forum
Pass me the rock and I'll score 'em with decorum
And proper, what you say, Hammer? Proper
Rap is not Pop, if you call it that then stop

NC, y'all, check the rhyme, y'all
SC, y'all, check it out, y'all
Virginia, check the rhyme, y'all
Check it out, check it out
In London, check the rhyme, y'all

WRITERS

Alan Edward Gorrie, Ali Shaheed Muhammad, Duncan Malcolm, Izaak Taylor Malik, James Stuart, Kamaal Ibn John Fareed, Leon Ware, Minnie Riperton, Owen Onnie Mcintyre, Richard J. Rudolph, Roger Ball, Stephen Ferrone

PUBLISHERS

Lyrics © Wixen Music Publishing, MUSIC SALES CORPORATION, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

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