[Mr. Man] Hey yo, MC am I 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 [Lee Majors] Who you be son? Well yo MC am I; people call me "L" Can't forget the double-e Major I rock well In '86 used to sport Pumas wit' Gazelles '96: Yo, I just rock mics and excel [Q-Tip] Hey yo, MC a b people call me air See me on Jamaica Ave. sippin' half-and-half I got a special-issued mic that's guaranteed steel Bustin' rhymes at the crowd to make the shorties feel [All] Bust it, bust it, bust it, bust it It's the 3 MCs You know we hold these mics tight We the 3 MCs We do it right e' night With a scratch And a cut We 'bout to tear sh** up (Mr. Man) See most of y'all really do not know how you should operate You need to contemplate cause you really cannot stop the wait 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 graph So follow the leader The 9-Ether--rapper's get split like amoeba By the fire-breather Get burned beyond recognition It's Mr. Man the accurate be blurrin' up your vision (Lee Majors) I pack a .45 caliber hollow-tipped pen Make 'em say "What happen when he be rappin'?" Make a move son. I k** bystanders and all Check the autops'[y] the words that I dropped in his skull If you want a n***a draw, pull out your best rhymes Make your same gun-finger turn into peace sign Went to El Segundo Came back with Tip's wallet Hip-hop Puritan show these n***as how you drop it (Q-Tip) We 'bout to drop it like the Pharcyde or Reggie Miller Camouflage on--rescuin' rap guerilla Tricklin' down: verb, noun cascade Precious as jade, never heard the word 'fade' Positive vibes is way too influential Wack rhyme sayers need to keep it confidential Kick it up like tornadoes Trash cats get tomatoed Beat you like Bruno Watch yo' eye get the tape 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 e'body knowin' That the 3 MCs was on the mic (Mr. Man) Check me out, boy, in high-speed or slo'-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 (Lee Majors) With all of these Pimps, players, mafiosos, and G's Make me wonder "Is there any room for just a MC?" Same sh**, different beat; can't take it no more You and your man bought the same rhyme from the same store (Q-Tip) You bought it from the same store And kicked the rhyme until your throat's 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 (Mr. Man) 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 (All) Cause we the 3 MCs Y'all know we hold these mics tight Yo, we the 3 MCs We keep it right all night