Ragtime

Ayyo, check this out Brand Nubian gettin' ready to swing this ep' We got the Grand Puba, we got Derek X on the flex We got, Lord Jamar, we got Alamo with the A, Ron Stud! And my man Ep Rock X, kick the flavor for me on this one 'Cause we gettin' ready to be out of here in a, sec Wild, New York raw as my voice box soars I'll Open your pores 'cause it's one of my chores Kickin' beats to boggle rhythms, cuttin' rhymes to a schism People often wonder and ask Is I'm the best? Surely you jest, I'm not down with the rest In fact they failed the test It's my vernacular that's simply spectacular My bite is in your neck it's the effect, of Dracula Man on a mission, go to school with low tuition Can't even keep account, of the G's I be kissin' But oh I beg your pardon, the race, is startin' The criminals is there and I'm the hardest of the hard And it's a feet for you to meet me on any given day The adjective amazing, spelled with an 'A' And a 'G' on the end, by usin, my pen Set forth on a journey for the, perfect blend Rhymin was a fad in the days of my dad Now MC's is makin' G's and goin' for bad The X in my name makes it, all official Am I the king? Well that's the so-called issue Rollin off the tongue was the fresh one-liner And CB talker was the zero one-niner Took a slight drop from the tip of the top Now I'm out for mines and I'm goin to clock What's mine on the line on a rhyme I will dine Never ate the pig can't deal with the swine Keep on, yes my word is bond Speakin' that knowledge like Farrakhan 'Cause it's ragtime! Ah yeah it's ragged, let's do it! Aight now we got Lord J Lord J, yo c'mon now Kick, the flavor, to this Drop it like this (I'mma swing it like this) I like to drop bass, 'cause when it hits, I bounce 'em I do this with my seven and my one half ounces of brain Which I contain, to manifest thought The record is bought so I figure I ought to elaborate (Might as well) As minds in turn collaborate I speak the facts black, I don't exaggerate I just get to the bare essential Demandin' that I talk, of my credentials, 'cause yo I never slept, my mind was in the right place Now let's take our steps and retrace Back to a time, when black was defined As original, God-like, Supreme Divine Refined is my mind that's why I'm buildin' There was a void in New York but now it's filled in By the Lord J, don't forget the A-M-A To the R, now say I'm a star (You a star, J) Well you can be one too Now here's all you got to do (Whatcha gotta do?) You got to know knowledge of self's the foundation Know wisdom's the way to let it outcome Understanding is the manifestation And cultural freedom, the final turnout, 'cause it's ragtime That's definitely ragtime Now let me rag mine, let me rag mine at this time Ayyo, bust it (Here I go here I go here I go) As I, stand as a Pharaoh and read up on Eliza Trick ends on my friends, 'cause Puba's not a miser Last longer than a Duracell, or a Energizer I got a little older but a whole lot wiser When it comes to shootin' shots I'm a damn good shooter MC Grand Puba should be worshiped like a Buddha I boogies to the rhythm, kicks all the flavortism Damn I gets busy, though makin' rhyme I gets bizm Always help another meaning sister or a brother Just a little tip I picked up, from my mother Smooth as Ali Baba once I week I see the barber So honey pucker up 'cause I'm a damn good slobber Mr. Exquisite, dressed in silk, Bally's made of lizard So honey, what is it? (What is it?) I rock a rhyme at a wedding, next tour I'm probably heading You want to beat like this? Check the stack of Otis Redding I'm hurtin' like a blister, confusin' like Twister Not a only child, four brothers and one sister Not a rinky-dinky never snackin' on a Twinkie When it comes to flexin' I can bend like a Slinkie So here comes the champ, to civilize a tramp When brothers try to play me, that's when the Pub' gets amped So smile here comes the picture, click! A humble type brother so don't play me as a vic' I can relate to the Good Times, the Cosby's on the sometimes Granoble's on a Sunday then it's back at work on Monday Take my gear to the cleaners, buy pants or a Beamer Then I'm out, bangin' crackheads, I can do without (Definitely, why not Puba? Why why why?) 'Cause it's ragtime