Brand New Bein' - Sadat X, Lord Jamar, Grand Puba

Lord Jamar, Sadat X

Grand Puba, Brand Nubian

Check it, yo

Lord J, rap’s Broadway Joe

I’m like Namath cause I’m famous for the way that I flow

See you’re an anus and you’re heinous, I just think you should know

That in the plainest, you’re the lamest and I think you should go

Straight to hell, New Rochelle, that’s where I’m from

You got money for a show then here I come

You wanna front on the low then hear my gun

I’ll have you trapped in a closet with nowhere to run

Huh, yeah, my flow is impeccable

Yours don’t make sense like homosexuals

You do a show, I’ma throw more vegetables

Youse a bitch, you need to grow some testicles

Your whole style is unacceptable

None of your albums will ever be collectable

Least you could do is try to keep it respectable

This is yoga rap, my flow is so flexible

«Ghetto music rap, we doing it» — Lord Jamar

«Brand Nubian» — Sadat X

«I flirt with the idea of quitting the game

Nah, I’ma evolve, continue to change» — Xzibit

«Ghetto music rap, we doing it»

«Brand Nubian»

«Ghetto music rap, we doing it»

«Brand Nubian»

Yeah, yo, 'Datty X, Grand Puba, Lord J

See when I drop my thesis

I keep a hundred niggas straight down the line like permanent creases

That paper increases, hot whips on leases

Sort of mine like nephews and nieces

I give it to you straight black, I ain’t never been a hate cat

I’m more concerned with filling up my plate Jack

Shit I’m starving, keep them bullshit snacks

I need my bank account obese when I’m moving in that Maybach

A fool can learn from his own mistakes

But the wise man learn from others

That’s why when I give it to you homie, gotta keep it real talk

So you ain’t stuck with three baby’s mothers

I be that Mister Magnificent, oh so significant

NY, so fly, viewing it from the bird’s eye

Grand Puba, the mammies are magnetic

Bullshit niggas and bitches is getting deaded, uh

Grand Puba, Lord Jamar, 'Dat X the Wild Cowboy

Wake up in the morning with the yearning for 'erbs

Go to war with my dudes, it’s like we fighting the Serbs

And I ain’t got to prove it to y’all

The Jews and the A-rabs, that’s a real brawl

Don’t let them slugs gas up your ear

You was never in the jail, you never walked down the tier

Me?

I’d rather be surrounded by broads

Even though I know half of them is really straight frauds

Damn, it’s great to be here with my brothers

Blowing things in the air, ain’t near no baby mothers

I am still the Wild Cowboy, ask yourself who got more style boy

I warn you, I’ll go baseline on you

Hit you with the eighth and you keep that faith

The Brand Nubian combo, Grand Puba ensemble

Still type hungry, let’s eat this food

I could jump in this stew, there’s no known cure