Mountain Brothers - Yes Yes lyrics

[Hook: Chops] A yes, yes, yes DJ's all play Yes, yes, yes 20 times a day Yes, yes, yes Make your girl say Yes, yes, yes "Whooo!" [Verse One: Chops] Heads that used to front, now they breaking out the knee pads The way I'm coming/cumming, make your hair stand up like Cameron Diaz Have you in rehab with these raps Think you got punchlines, I'm throwing haymakers with no rematch Hot to d**h like a fire to stop your breath I'm not the ref I can't call it Fake players pretending there's Benjamins in your wallet We got the solid milk chocolate When cats is fronting with nothing but pocket lint I got a doctorate in rocking sh** with mad accomplishment My style is Turbo in Breaking, ain't no stopping it Chops, apocalypse optometrist Turning non believers to cheer leaders Now they jumping on the jock and sh** The consequence? Mo' clout Confidence like who ever came up with the names for Mos Def and No Doubt I'm the cat your kids will tell their grandchildren about 150 years from now you'll still be hearing 'em shout [Hook] [Verse Two: Chops] So let me demonstrate, this bro's got sick flows like when you menstruate The Magnificent Butcher's in the house and 'bout to renovate Your trend imitate, so I then innovate Incinerate rappers and serve 'em up just like a dinner plate What? Me and the mic you can't fade us Signed a contract with Acura cause I'm the stuff legends are made of I got what it takes plus I'ma take what you got Straight blazing the spot, Chops is able to drop So hot that you can cook on it, sh** I wrote the book on it Vain chicks staring at my tip wondering how they'd look on it But I know the deal, hip hop's god of gamblers Chops, showing kids how to spit like Adam Sandler Sitting in your Pampers I'm funky like clothes hampers I got the soul and grammar to make ya go bananas No lights, no cameras, no Solid Gold dancers Can I kick it? Motherf**er you know the answer [Hook] [Verse Three: Chops] Like Common I Used To Love H.E.R But then we spent some time apart The b**h came running back Knowing not to try and start When I rhyme in the park you memorize my lines by heart Cause I Move The Crowd like Rakim blowing a giant fart Compromise the art? I'm not the one having it Chops got hip hop on lock like a gun cabinet Immaculate craftsmanship like Hong Kong action flick The style you're kicking is wack on some John Saxon sh** Put me to the test? Best put that to rest Commence to dropping gems on your head, leaving permanent dents You need to keep up on current events Cause y'all sh** is dead and you don't even know it, like the Sixth Sense You ga**ed like Rayon I got raps to last all day long Straight lyricist Type of cat that player's hate on So while y'all flossing in your sequins and rayon Your jawns leaving the table like, "They're playing my song." [Hook]