Song parody of

What They Do

by The Roots

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  • English (English)
  • Français (French)
  • Español (Spanish)

Never do what they do, what they do, what they do Yo, yo Lost generation, fast paced nation World population confront they frustration The principles of true hip-hop have been forsaken It's all contractual and about money makin' Pretend-to-be cats don't seem to know they limitation Exact replication and false representation You wanna be a man? Then stand your own To emcee requires skills; I demand some shown I let the frauds keep frontin' And roam like a cellular phone far from home Givin' crowds what they wantin' Official hip-hop consumption, the fifth thumpin' Keepin' ya party jumpin' with an original somethin' Yo, I dedicate this to the one dimensional No imagination, excuse for perpetration My man came over and said, "Yo, we thought we heard you" Joke's on you; you heard a bitin'-ass crew, but um Never do what they do, what they do, what they do Thin is the line that run between love and hatred The game is ill-natured; it's nothing sacred Aiyyo, it's funny when I see some rap niggas due to make it A few'll blow up, or go as far as they can take it My nine to five is just to hit ya; get the party live I'm black thought, used to rap for sport Now the rhymes sayin' rent payin' life support I take it very seriously within this industry It's various crews that try to touch me But I come with the beautiful things, and I bless the track plushly Around the world crowds love me, from doin' tours Recipient of applause from all of you and yours Creator of original sounds to send to stores You take home to absorb and sweat it out your pores Now, who can stop the music runnin' through these veins? Infinitely go against the grain; that's why my motto's to Never do what they do, what they do, what they do Livin' the life of limos and lights Airplanes and trains, short days and long nights Keyboards and mics, bass chords and drum kicks And my mental thick to hit my head like brick As I embark on a mission welcomin' to the dark When I first spark the arts, when the listenin' start Open your head wide, and let the thought inside My style fortified by all of Philadel-phi I've dealt more stealth than all the wicked wealthy Mentality undetectable by the naked eye Then I get paid when the record is played To put it short "I want it made" like Ed; 'nuff said Then after that, I'm puttin' on my cousin Hamed We let the ladies blend with the dark skin thoroughbred And discover my level is that of no other And Roots crew reign official and true while I'm continuin' to Never do what they do, what they do, what they do

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What They Do

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