lirik lagu de la soul – afro connections at a hi 5
pos: this is dedicated to all those hardcore acts.
dove: yeah, you know them brothers that we used to
look up to, that fell the f-ck off.
mase: and now they doing all that r’n’b sh..(crocker!)
dove: you mean rhthym and blues?
de la soul: no! rappin’ bullsh…
dove:
connection a, click, what?
my d-ck, chick
i smack a fish if you thinks
my connection ain’t thick, d-ck
headed like a punk whip
i travel miles with a rhythmic lip
i rock an afro
in ’83, gee, yo
and spray the sheen so i get a soul glow
i play the corner tough
and me and mase pull puffs on a blunt
mase:
givin’ high-five is what i want
so i puff a blunt, i don’t front
i get spliffed, get a stiff
then i go hump a stunt
like a pimp pro
(nah, man, a super ho)
that’s cool ’cause i’m still an afro bro
yeah, i’m live for my life is hectic
every hour, every minute, every second
i keep a level head and stay down to earth
’cause i’ve been an afro since birth
pos:
yeah
now i hold my crotch ’cause i’m top-notch
i run amok sasquatch, and i like to eat live crab
i’ve got five beepers, you scab
but you can find me directly on the ave
(you n-gg-s cheat me, well who’s that!)
my breath never smells wack
i eat the watermelon tic-tac
before i kiss myself i always jump back
(yo, gee, this track is stack)
(and you know that)
i do three flips
when a punk flip on my duke lifts
but i flex more strength when i’m asleep
on the other side with his main tapes
make her dry her face, buy her gold earlocks
but i may, she flocks round me like a donut
she got sprinkles but i bite my way out
more brothers come about, try to scheme slick
but the native tongue’s thick
lick ’em real good, like a real hood should
but the fly tape let the car speakers shake
i ran a cop down, i smile a frown with a but
show gold teeth, ’cause i ain’t a vegetarian
not scared of beef, sport a feather like chief
got a scribble pad, you can get these gonads
’cause i’m big-willed, blow off like a seal
’cause connection with the afro is real
dove:
i be the gift of gab, but be a bro with a diss
because it’s tough to bluff a cab
no wonder melle mel is ‘rrrr-rah!’
i play of tape of the son of la-di-da
my cousin rilo sells blow, a g a day
keeps his kids hooray, a size nine and half
i kicks my tricks, is to live for island
i mug a mug vic, but i’s cool, i self
with the quickness i bust the true slang
show no pit to those who don’t understand
mase:
the maseo got tailed with the big bail
i busted loose but now the blue goose is on my tail
i seen the ghetto go lower than it is
(he don’t care, ’cause his n-gg-‘s selling crack to the kids)
my jeans are brand new, with twelve more
in the closet with my silk, and below
my 45 pack thick, draw quick
if a n-gg- starts some shibidibidit
my crib is uptown, downtown, l.i.
and another crib in queens
i munch some cornbread, boar’s head
my favorite porck chops and
a plate of collar greens
i chill with shymel, akeem, jaheed
and the rastafarians’ll be the crown in
and the poppa
but the connections are still a high-five
(let’s get busy)
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