It’s the sound of science.
It’s the sound of science.
You think that you can front when revelation comes?
No sleep ‘till Brooklyn.
This is the future sound.
Sit right back and hear a tale of a hustler ’round my way.
My quality control captivates your party patrol.
Another dimension, new galaxy, intergalactic planetary.
‘Cause you can’t, you won’t, and you don’t stop.
It’s just that I’m old school like that, roll that rap over soul loops like that.
Ooh la la la, it’s the way that we rock when we’re doing our thing.
Obviously, they came to portion up his fortune, sounds to me like that old robbery extortion.
I ain’t happy, I’m feeling glad. I got sunshine in a bag.
Tillin’ the wasteland sands, raps on backs of treasure maps, stacks to the ceilin’ fan.
That’s the joint, that’s the jam, turn that s— up, play it again.
I sell rhymes like dimes.
We holding onto what’s golden, on a stage I rage and I’m rollin’.
Five days you work, one whole day to play. Come on everybody, wear your roller skates today.
I’m cool like dat, I’m cool.
I want leverage, ice cold beverage, money I can’t count, I blacked out standing on Mount Everest.
Dear New York, I hope you’re doing well. I know a lot’s happened and you’ve been through hell.
When you attack, I fall back in the wind like the lotus – put the soul in the track like my name was Otis.
When you cross my mind, you best look both ways ‘cause my personality’s bigger than yours.
Feelin’ my wrath, venturing through parts of the South so dirty you’ll want to be given a bath.
When they see me, they say, “Who dat ovah there?” Just a lil dude with a head full of hair.
Everybody wants to be a DJ, everybody wants to be an MC, but being speakers are the best.
Shake it like a Polaroid picture.
Hey bro, Day Glo, set the bet, pay dough before the cheddar get away, best to get Maaco.
First got it when he was six, didn’t know any tricks. Matter fact first time he got on it, he slipped.
Yeah, I been struggling my whole life, yeah. I pour it up and get my soul right, yeah.
Guys you know you better watch out – some girls are only about that thing, that thing, that thing.
It will, I suppose you could say, make you (sha, sha-ba-da) feel good.
Still making some noise, still hilarious, still the Beastie Boys.
To not dig this one would be mad, man.
The best solo album by the great Q-Tip of A Tribe Called Quest (and many collaborations) fame.