BUSH BABEES

BUSH BABEES - 3 MCs lyrics

rate me

(feat. Q-Tip)

[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 shit 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 kill bystanders and all

Check the autops'(y) the words that I dropped in his skull

If you want a nigga draw, pull out your best rhymes

Make your same gun-finger turn into peace sign

Came back with tips swallowed

Hip-hop Puritan show these niggas 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 shit, 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

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