What I'm Supposed 2 B - Monie Love

Give me the funky beat you know the point I won’t miss, uh

This is for the twin, and this is for the sister

Something gets you all excited too and I’ma swing it

What exactly should I do?

(Come on, Monie, sing it)

Didn’t anybody tell you I can be the life and soul

Of your party?

Yes I’m from England, but I ain’t La-Di-Da-Di

Givin' it up to you and yo I think I sound swell

You ain’t rollin' with The Roots?

Oh well

I the stuff, you shuffle it, it’s not to Monie’s taste

You’re walkin' in the dark and I believe that is a waste

Case is reopened, Monie will review it

Your butt is in my face so with a pencil I’ll screw it

Yeah that’s right you deserve to be the butt

For mine and my business, and so what

If you’re offended?

I was offended, but now I mend it

Put your remarks in an envelope and send them

To hell.

I don’t even want to smell you close to me

For tellin' people What I Am Supposed 2 B

When you wake up in the morning, do you really smell the coffee?

Or think of other ways to say something else of me

Well hang it up, drop it, end of the line

I guess you don’t have a life, that’s why you livin' mine

I’m the Mo, and if you Funk Wid Me

It would be a big mistake, oh what a punk you’d be

For the simple-simple reason you lost your boots

Don’t seem like you wanna find them—

So why should I give a hoot?

Scoot,

Don’t be trying to play me out

Like I said, and I can do this, you deserve a clout

But that’s okay, today is my day

I’ma just tell you 'bout yourself and pray

You snap out of it, although I doubt that you will do this

You’re headin' towards a case of just hopelessness

All you seem to want to do is laugh, hee-hee-hee

While I’m tellin' folks What I Am Supposed 2 B

Monie is a sister, an auntie, a daughter

These are things you don’t know which I think you oughta

Cut the crap, don’t give me that, your mouth is like a slit

That opens every time somebody wants to hear shit

Get real, scoop your dooty up, shovel it someplace else

Like in between the split, yeah that’s legit

It fits.

Get back, stay back, don’t be foolish

Because you’ve been scored the number-one dummy, honey

Monie is a modest little person

It’s people like you that tend to bring out the cursin'

Within me.

Forgive me

Those who chose the righetous road to war

I had to make a comment to make the fools cease to talk

About me.

I see myself as gossip-free

I don’t be sayin' nothin' 'bout nobody

Why should they do it to me?

I had no album, I had no nothin'

Cause this was back in the days, and yet still they was discussin'

The Mo. What’s your problem?

You have nothin' to call your own?

Well, that’s besides the point in this poem

And for your information I’ll tell you Who I’m Supposed 2 B

Cause it’s a matter of who I am: M-O-N-I-E

Indeed the Monie was born in B-A-double-T-E-R-S-E-A

I say, how many games would you like to play?

Monopoly, Scrabble, show me a magic trick

I’ll plain stab you in the back, in which case you must be sick

Don’t try to get by by saying «Hi, do you know a Monie?

She used to live in my building.

She’s my friend.»

That’s old

You made up your mind to be unkind, that’s your prerogative

Too.

Therefore I’m afraid I don’t know you

So don’t persist trying to bother me, cause you’re a stranger

Is that so hard to understand?

I’m speaking English ain’t I?

And I mustn’t forget to mention I remember where I come from

I know where I’m at and where I’m going to so, dumb one

Whatever belongs to you, business-wise I suggest you go and mind it

I don’t give a damn how long it takes you to find it

Remain in your own residency

Cause I know Who and What I’m Supposed 2 B