Stetsasonic - Bust That Groove

rate me


Yo, Prince Paul


Bust that groove


Well my name is Daddy-O, so

Want you to know, what you want us to know

When I'm around, I'm doggin' the show


To pimp ya hand slips, I'm set to rip tits

The Rhyme-a-rator, king and I'm runnin' the ship


You niggas should leave, well who's that?


I got style and physique, see

Prince Paul, what, what, we know that you got guts

Let 'em know what's up wit the scratch and cut

(Prince Paul scratches it up)


You got on and on and three steps ahead

Hot butter on, say what, the cornbread

Stet start troopin' wit the rhymes galore

You do the patty duke, til you can't no more

Play after dark, and search to come in

You might bump heads wit some of ya friends

And the D.J., he may blow ya mind

D.J. Prince Paul, is one of a kind


With a little pat, we smack and then shalat

To a monk that hates, spit out the fact

That the crew is not a threat to society

But opportunity to make people feel hot beats

So we deliver the fun, take her way down un'

Make people gather round and shake their bun

And we never leave a jam til the job is done

And if you wanna fight that, we could go for some


Right to left, you right, he's deaf

Fly girls in the corner, you shootin' ya best

So watch rock the show, so she says no

Cuz she see the Prince Paul, cut sparks'll flow

When these cuts are made, it go inside wit the fade

After that's done, that's when we get paid

It's Stet prefect, Prince Paul is direct

And he cut's the old school and that's hi-tech



Dip-dip-dive, so-socialize

I didn't teach to throw ya, threw some exercise

We did the push-up, the sit-up, the jumping jacks

And when we went through, we went around the tracks

But when you smoke that crack, you run like a snail

I didn't teach a poet that we goin' to fail

But when the test came, you know we passed

Cuz we the best M.C.'s in the whole gym class


Up and down and all around

Now bust the rhythm of the Stetsa sound

Bring if you feel you wants to get snotty

Take a good look at the size of the party

It's six on the mix and Human Percus'

D.B.C. on the keys and the three will discuss, us

Cuz we're the must and the cuts we trust

Grand Wizard Prince Paul is ya vitamin plus


We go back and forth, and forth and back

Wit the rhyme on time, we cuttin' on slack

Wit the chance to advance, and hand yo dash

Wit the rhythm that's flown from U.S. to France

We got the D.B.C. to devastate the keys

And the light skinned brother on the mix machine

It's not a funk machine that cause a heart attack

But the mighty Prince Paul on the old 8-track

It's like that ya'll, as personality wins

Frukwan, Delite, Daddy-O, best friends


'You got the time - I got the time'

'You got the feeling - I got the shit on right...'

'Uh! Uh-Uh-Uh!' - scratched up

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