What Really Goes On-A Tribe Called Quest

Chorus: We got the bump-da-bump-da-bump bump(6X) We got the bump-da-bump-da-bump bump-da-bump-da-bump Bump-da-bump-da-bump Q-Tip: Yo, we preparin ourselves for this ultimate war The MCs are really lost and it's at a big cost We be rhymin at our show thinkin we gettin dough Movin throught every town off the fumes of... And accolades of the crowd with our chests out proud Yo, we bout to pack these joints so that these...sound loud Some kids be actin stank like a baby pant It's the rapper Abstract that make the joint get amped Yo, use your body maker and use your minds, to break true Yo, we gotta do the do Son, we livin in a time where mad folks talk (sh*t) Representin they crews or they East-West clicks Let me tell everybody from coast to coast About the lands we boast, but we don't own jack How the (f**k) we movin through makin moves like that? How the (hell) we movin through makin moves like that? Can you explain that? I doubt that, very highly We got jewels and Mo and the life is tight rowdy Everybody lookin (shitty) like a to' down committee Let's make these institutions, body slam for the smitties I got girls with plenty tails, smarts and big (titties) And they all stressin me, yo, really? What really goes on? (James Brown: I don't know) Chorus: Q-Tip: One is for the beat and the two is for the rhyme Three is for the life, now we on this incline Never catch this kid stickin forks in swine Never ran my gibs in nuthin less than a dime A few of my brothas did that asshole one time Strivin miss sunrise, sometimes is known as crime The three twenty-five got that Windex shine And when I shot skelly, I had my boxes in lines All I wanna do is live life and be fair I used to stress girls with long legs and long hair Now, I want a woman with a spiritual flair God will never make it too hard for me to bare I'm hungry like a derelict whose stays in the diluse Some can count me out, but yo, I doubt that I lose The Westernized world got our minds confused You frontin on me, ak, then you don't get bruised The funny style cats, they be playin games like Chucky Government officials shoot their same old... Made of devil agents a.k.a. the devil flunky Stiff (a**) squares gettin mad cuz we funky This the crap game, then we got the top rolls The positive jumps the negative like frogs Resentin evil vibes, yo, that (sh*t) is at the morgue We celebrate laughin down in at the smorgas borg You still lookin (shitty) like a to' down committee Let's make this institution, buy the land for the smitties I got girls with tails, plenty smarts and big (titties) And they all stressin me...really Chorus: