Common Sense - Tricks Up My Sleeve lyrics

I'm a Jake I don't bake a cake I'm not a cake daddy you know the type be pullin up in a Caddy With a drop top see when I hoe hop I kick it to the bus stop (what?) And it's goodie goodie gumdrops I don't be droppin' squat but to the heads they think it's topnotch I'm skippin' over every other dip as if it's Hop hop hop hop hop hop hop hop hopscotch watch Hey hey yo man, ay man, look at ol' girl She got a BIG a**! (Yo man, sic her.) Hey man, hey, hey sweetheart, how you doin? I'm doi'n fine. Oh word? What's your name? Rayshel. Why don't you come over to the house so I can put you in the Buck bang! Alright check it, you see I only bag ya for a second You never see me beggin', you see the slimmie naked In my headroom, mo' better yet my bedroom Tippedy tokin', and stutterin' as if she's Max Headroom Redroom (Redrum?) No I ain't a murderer I'm Jake the Rake, yo sorry if I'm hurtin' the Vaginal area, fallopian tubes and your cervix I strongly recommend that for your gen' you get some Jerkins I find it beneficial; not to force the issue I just blow my sh** and wipe you see a head it's like tissue Use em and throw em away, see a hoe a day is essential If you want a piece of the rock, trick, go to Prudential Cause I rock a buyer babe on the treetop And when the wind blows, my dick'll get hard, the cradle will rock I'm like the peaco*k on N-B-C, nothin' but co*k I pump, pump pump it up yo, like a Reebok Hey, I don't sell junk, but I'm a Junkyard Dog And when I Duke it's a Hazard, so call me Boss Hog Or Roscoe Pecol, oh! pain That's the sound of the Caravan, running the train Yeah yeah, b**h That's the sound of the Caravan, running the train Heck it out, check it out yeah, in yo' eye! Yeah! Ha! Yeah! Twilight Tone got tricks up my sleeve Immenslope got tricks up my sleeve Yo D-R-K got tricks up my sleeve De La Soul got tricks up my sleeve JuJu got tricks up my sleeve The Nubian Nut got tricks up my sleeve Com Sense got tricks up my sleeve ("Wait I got another trick up my sleeve") I'm not a Jake or a Rake or a hoe, but I got the mo' better For head of the cla** And if you ask me I'm not tryin' ta be drastic I'm not a b**h like Robin Givens I'm concerned about your Plastic, ask it, I'll tell you what you want to know And if I tell you no, don't be all up on it dope Frontin' so your friends won't know that you got the 86 So you call me a b**h You get your kicks, but Kix and Trix are for kids I don't turn no tricks, I don't s** no Dix-ie cups I hops in the hubba hubba bubba I'm like Al B. stud, cause if I'm not your lover or your friend Don't try to spend, waste your time Tryin' to get a taste of mine but you ain't tastin' mine So find a new type puss, cause if I don't like you You ain't gettin' service G, this ain't the drive through Drive by, way far, and everything'll be groovy Then you pester me? Yo I'ma tell ya like the Nubians Move on black brother move on You gotta move on black brother move on