☆ milk chocolate o2jam

[BROther ?uestion]
Get loose, get loose, Manifest get loose
And just rock heartbeat showin you got juice
And have fun (HAVE FUN) have fun (HAVE FUN)
Have, HAVE, HAVE FUN!!!!

[Mr. Manifest]
Introducing lyrics for the year of ninety-three
The black brainchild is about to kick the groovy
speak out the head, provided for the hardrocks
Here to resurrect the ghetto beats for the blocks
You can dig the styles cause the styles are for the digging
A fat sack of soul, that’s how the Sector roll
Never making fake material, why should I?
The mind is so equipped to rip, so why would I
give you less than that, you in fact, this is where it’s at
cause lyrics I’ve provided is about to swing the bat
and shake up the levels from New York to Montego
It’s all about the lyrics, it’s not about the ego
Quick to make a jam and slam sound like the pro that I am
It’s profound, like the kids from the underground
Every single lyric is prepared, in the hunt for the metro
with scoops of fat loops and funky lingo
Level’s being felt, all over in the fifty states
Breaking more beats than my moms breaks the china plates
Transmitting, hitting areas we freak with funk
when we come to planet Earth, with a trunk of fat, soul
Alert doing work on the everyday
Here to bring the swing like my man Donny Hathaway
Just, follow the dotted line, and do what we do
Because you gotta get a grip, if you want your shit

[BROther ?uestion]
Now get loose, get loose, Lord Akil get loose
And just rock heartbeat showin you got juice
And have fun (HAVE FUN) have fun (HAVE FUN)
Have, HAVE, HAVE FUN!!!!

[Lord Akil]
Umm, from the Southern side of Philly yet of The Roots
there comes me, who?
The janky little brother of Mr. Bruce
A jazz kickin kid who flows, like the river Jordan
Not fond of Honda scooters, but I’ll take an Accord and
zoom right through your borough, because I’m crazy thorough
No offspring running ’round but no my penile is not sterile
Collects the crazy papes from, selling crazy tapes, umm
Big heads be gettin swollen, I crush em just like grapes
The level that I’m zoning, the one that’s on the third
Eatin buds or mad grass that gets you HIGHER than a bird
Kinks, be in the head, cause I leave the curls to Jheri
Got mad souls out the ass with shit, fat like William Perry
A poor black kid with rhythm, a eye for jazzy beats
Straight from the underground, found new life on the South Streets
We ? off the jams that will uplift the people’s souls
Cause the Objects that are Foreign, the kids with baggy clothes
are the cats that I’m coolin with, when we be together
Two and two equals four but Foreign Objects be forever
So, just let me flow as I reach up to the next plateau
And then you’ll give me my respect
Uhh, cause I’m a Foreign Object

[BROther ?uestion]
Now get loose, get loose, A.J. Shine get loose
And just rock heart-beat showin you got the juice
And have fun (HAVE FUN) have fun (HAVE FUN)
Have, HAVE, HAVE FUN!!!!

[A.J. Shine]
First off, I’m burstin off shots of gab
and gettin lifted by the gift, I start to jab
The rhymes that I grab send schools to the slab
As I write scores, the funky orator’s gone
on some next ish lookin
for the next fish with a wish that used to be a duck
but now you’re stuck dumbstruck
Trying to hang but you can’t swim I think you’re fucked
You traded in your blues for boom, tap shoes
I do shows and change all opposing views
I get down, I go up as I blow up
cause I got this O.M.B. rhyme you can’t defuse
Yeahhh, here to rock all of you rockers
When I carry the ball, I stay be-hind my blockers
I move swift, I needs no lift
I don’t have to riff because I shift the gift
and now my name is Joseph Simmons, but I’m not Run
With the mic in my hand, I’ve only just begun
to hold mine, I’ma goldmine plus a ton
The way I shine, I be the rising sun, huh!
How many times must I have to say
this I never miss yo when I display?
From styles I paint the funky picture I portray and
before I hit the court I made it my forte
cause I got this, you can come and get this, cause my
method is the most and I boast so you can bet this
is like the best of the rest of the flock
And now you’re walkin down the hallways of the Always Jock
Abbreviated A.J. here for the day
Bustin rhymes in your face while I’m fadin away
It’s like that y’all, and ya don’t stop
The funky Bid on the root with the hip-hop

[Black Thought]
Now.. get loose, get loose, ?uestion get loose
And, rock heart-beat showin YOU got juice
And have fun (HAVE FUN) have fun (HAVE FUN)
Have, HAVE, HAVE FUN!!!!

[BROther ?uestion]
It’s me the BROther ?uestion on the M-I-C to flow
To bust a fat rat-a-tat rhyme one mo’ gen’
I’m flexin with my mental verbalistic chocolate
Sucker know you’re listenin so please get off of it
A score and two years ago began the ?uestion’s mission
South of 52nd Street, on ?
and anybody wanna diss the sure shot body rock
fresh flowin dude, we can take it to the stage
Sucker, Foreign Objects coming soon
From the rat cave to a room with a view
My brother’s B.G., and my band is Josh U
And the stank whole rhythmic funk, plus my nuc’
You can comprehend the verbal letters that I send
Ahh, ooooh, ahhhh, like Boyz II Men
I don’t have a Benz-y shoes are walkin like Jimmy
Make em say, “Yo ?uestion’s demi,” make em squeal like ?
Man, yo, I jams on every gram
Move out the way, I gets on, rockin round the clock
In school I used to doodle, nowadays I use my noodle
And I’ll be rockin planets, and soon I’m livin fatter
I’m a levelheaded son who knows where I came from
Umm, lights, camera… ?uestion

[? ? ?]
Get loose, get loose, Black Thought get loose
And just rock heartbeat showin you got the juice
And have fun (HAVE FUN) have fun (HAVE FUN)
Have, HAVE, HAVE FUN!!!!

[Black Thought]
Well umm, yik-yik yak-yak, chi-chi-chi-ka-SPLACK
Thoughts that I stutter and brother that I left back behind
Lines of swine I’m qualified for groovy stew achoo
I caught the boogie like the flu and God Bless the Black
Cardiac cerebral abstract cathedral
The mental is the temple and the central sees you tryin to flam!
Man I catch a lift like Bob Mar-ley, and par-lay
On airy clouds I drop, bombs like a Sau-di, Arabian
Flocks I rocks like Fabian
It’s the nipple sex upon the grits that call me baby and
run a finger, through the knaps of the rap, singer that
pull a scat, from the stack, that I keep in the shack
of my soul, bring the bowl I got the flat out good
That’s why I’m dug by the hippies plus the pimps and hoods
in the slum, could I umm, come, should I umm, come
Yes I does, and gets down said I wasn’t know that I was
but they gel, that’s why they blow up cause they didn’t give spect
to the erector of the Foreign Object, I collect, to preserve
Plus develop and envelop in The Roots of rhyme
Yo that’s the end of the line, I got mine, and I’m out

[Brother ?uestion]
A-ha! Ahh, suki suki now
It’s the Brother ?uestion
and now you know how it is
when the Foreign Objects get wreck
Like that, yeah, ha ha ha
And we out y’all, and we out y’all
And we out y’all, and we out y’all
And we out y’all…