A Tribe Called Quest Lyrics

Album: Anthology

Hot Sex Lyrics

Chorus 

Verse One: Phife 

Ayo who wanna pull on Phifer long time no hear from 

Suckers walkin' around talking about they could get some 

But that pop is non cypher, no can do 

And if you think I'm a dope, then ask the other crew 

And I proceed to let you know, exactly how to flow 

I'm not Lawn Doctor so just step off with the hoe 

Oops my mistake I didn't know you went with her 

Should I run down the line of the all the kids that done hit her 

Don't be bitter, I hear that honey resembles a critter 

I heard she likes to do one-one my man John Ritter 

But back to the subject you can't catch wreck 

You must get respect, to earn respect 

Suckers think they could herb me cuz know I where specks 

You're full of jokes, but you your name ain't flex 

I got the riches, the bitches, I'm large like a Huxtable 

You think you're all that but you're girl's quite doable 

Yeah, I'm tellin' you G, to back up off me 

I'm not a mad cohort, but I'm not Mr. Softee 

Rappin' is an art, coming straight from the heart 

So forget the chart because the action can start 

Chorus 

Verse Two: Q-Tip 

Where ya at? To all my peoples with the funk 

I'm the undercover brother dump your hoe in the trunk 

Save all the sad songs and the tearjerkers 

Niggaz step up it's the lyrical worker 

The poems that I create ain't in paper back books 

The poems that I create are for hookers and the crooks 

My mental is excelling cuz I dabble in the books 

I'm not the one to front on, so suboops-suboops 

Yo I gets the pickens, I'm such a damn Dickens 

If you step to this then the plot just thickens 

I'll run you around the track like a bunny and a dog 

To me, your just another MC on the log 

A link on the chain, fluid on the brain 

I boast of hype lyrics, and yours are mardane 

See I can't maintain, especially if you come back 

I'm the lyrical master blaster, yeah I can do that 

I can also do your girl, so leave the hoe at home 

Cuz when I get done, I'll have her strung on bones 

It's the no-joke pressure, that elevates my mind 

Makes me pick up and go when it's time to drop a rhyme 

My title is locked, the Abstract poetic 

I'm in the idle mode but my energy's kinetic 

So smooth and debonair, especially for the ear 

Gotta keep my thing in gear cuz it's evident and clear 

That I will rock, rock, rock [fades away] 

Chorus