Q-tip - If The Papes Come lyrics

[Intro: Q-Tip] The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away But not Hip-Hop yo And let it be known that we are on some umm Ehh ahh, uhh, a-chicka-uhh Ehh ahh, uhh, a-chicka-uhh And this ain't on the pop tip yo Are y'all kids tucked in? (Yeah!) Here we go.. [Q-Tip] People in the audience they cry out "ho" People with a gun, yo they'll cry out "bo!" I don't like a cop, I don't sell a rock But still the kanga's clock me after a show Standing on the stage dripping, pouring with sweat To people in the crowd I give what they get Papers make paid, babies make laid I don't really worry nor do I fret Waiting for the gimme and boy I got some Sweet like a peach and tart like a plum I thought what I think, I rock a bead link Legally I sip when I turn twenty-one A letter to the homeboy that freaked the head dome The army wants me to drop my microphone Gotta be brief, no orders from a chief Hot bu*ter on what, say what, the popcorn On the tour bus we hit the truck stop A dollar for some chips, a quarter for some pop We laugh and giggle some, Phife gets the honeybuns Ali Shaheed Muhammad keeps talking that shop The brothers cruise on as we quest for the check Calling up Famous to see if it's there yet Not a bourgeoise, hate the seminar Ignorant flip, hey miss you must jet Flex for the funkiest, bu*ts start to bounce Measure Hip Hop for weight, by the ounce Bush on the tush, you're pulling while I push Play me for the punk then puss, feel the pounce [Hook] It's like that y'all (keep on) Freak freak y'all (keep on) (Repeat x4) [Afrika Baby Bam] A young baby brother growing up in the world Used to be a bottle now a 40 and a girl Standing on the corner cold chilling, talking sh** Wake up in the morning fix a plate of hominy grits Change my diaper, clean my pacifier Smoke to get higher if I would like to jump Muhammad drum machining, dust it off clean and Make a funky beat to keep the street steaming Look from the heart and cold living lum Good from the start like a newborn nun Eat to get fatter, but that don't matter Born out in Brooklyn and that's where I'm from May 22nd out on Ocean Ave From around the way so I be knowing the half Peace to Sweet Daddy and on to Mike G The harder they come is as hard as we be [Hook] [Q-Tip] If the papes come yo yo I won't riff I'll just sit down and get me a spliff With mines I was born, a child of the corn Molecules of the land they uplift Levels is straight, in fact they're rectified Adrenaline now is crazy multiplied Four and four is eight, if fat sh** makes the plate I make sure the Tribe is in With the quickness you bear the witness Flexing and pumping with the fitness Moving it - uh, doing it - uh Those who oppose must hit the s-list Doing it, doing it with the whole frame Look what's in the mind and not in the brain On this you can quote, we on a diffy note Quest for the future, 'stead of the fame One ninety-one brothers grabbing they thingies Forgot the name, oh, equivalent to Jimmy Hiddle-iddle-it, you think I have to quit Ali Shaheed Muhammad, with the singy-singy Slamming with a slammy you front, on the case Right or left nut Ali plays the ace Do what you do, flam for a crew Bonita Applebum blows smoke in Sha's face Slang for the kang, you must if you have Dribble hops out giggle yo proper term is laugh Brothers who are snakes, I label them as fakes Instincts to travel up the hood path, c'mon [Hook] [Jimi Hendrix dialogue] Thank you As you all know, you just can't believe everything you see and hear, can you? Now if you will excuse me I must be on my way