[Verse 1: Phife Dawg]

Ayo, swing-swing-swing to chop-chop-chop

Yo, that's the sound when MCs get mopped

Don't come around town without the hip in ya hop

'Cause when the shit hits the fan, that ass'll get dropped

MCs wanna attack me, but them punks can't cope

I'll have you left without a job like Isaac from The Love Boat

So money, watch your mouth, or I'ma have to bust ya

Battlin' MCs from JFK to Russia

Back down to London, Sweden, and Brazil

Do a US tour for three months, and then I chill

Styles be phat like Jackie Gleason, the rest be Art Carney

People love the Dawg like the kids love Barney

I love you, you love me

The shorty Phife Dawg is your favorite MC

So move back yourself, dread, you know the element

The Tribe is good for your health like a can of Nutrament

MCs don't have no wins, MCs don't have no bitches

I flip shit crazier than a busload full of Jerry's Kids

Your crew don't want it, and your crew don't want it

But if you feel you can swing it, then, money, please bring it

Large Professor in the house, you know how we do

I skate on your crew like Mario Lemieux

Peace to Ike Love and the rest of the crew

I'll meet you guys in front the cleaners

Bring the blunts and the brew, so

[Verse 2: Q-Tip]

What's up, kids? The Ab' is speakin' from the moon

Thanks for your support, ayo, I'll be home soon

But the only thing I ask when I return from my task

Is a whole bunch of beats and a flask full of ass

My fist stands firm because I'm Black and solid

I open up your pores like a plate full of collards

Come on, take it easy, would ya? Easy, easy

I'm up in the gulley, that's when I am her buddy

She told me pull her hair, I did, it drove her nutty

Filled up the hole like spackle or I mean putty

When we over joints like this, we never cruddy

Extra P hooked the beat, and kids, it feels lovely

Check it out, 'cause my conception is immaculate

A bachelor lookin' for a bachelorette

Back to you MCs, this is what you gonna get

A first-degree burn from my man Ken's cigarette

I hope you like Marlboro

Paul, you know we thorough like Denver

The beat feels like a never-ender

But all things good must, so I won't sweat it

Drop the seeds for the youthful crew, I hope you get it

As I stand, grip this mic inside my hand

Boy, I'll smack you up like I was your old gran

So respect yourself, son, and come and give me love

Once again, the Ab' is who you think of

So chill with the beef, money, we gotta dead it

[Verse 3: Large Professor]

It's Extra P, and yo, Tip, I'm 'bout to set it

On the country once again, here to win

I'm Uptown chillin', takin' in this Grandmaster Vic blend

From the projects, the PJs

Fuck them two DJ's

Self mission, I had her in the ill position

Sayin', "Large, you's the soul brother that I'd like to F with

For the rest of my life," yeah, yeah, now check the method

As I proceed with what you need like Akinyele

A whip looks complete when the tires say Pirelli

Funk monkey, one rapper fell off, now he's a junkie

There's eight million stories in the city, it's a pity

Don't fuck with the skins if she's tryin' to act shitty

Big shout to the Guru, Primo and Zulu Nation

Was on a vacation in the ghetto

Yo, Ras, slow your roll, I'm 'bout to bag this here schmeydl

Rapper Nas on top, it seems we gonna rock it

Queens represent, buy the album when I drop it