Hot Sex (instrumental) - A Tribe Called Quest

One: Phife

Ayo who wanna pull on Phifer long time no hear from

Suckers walkin' around talking about they could get some

But that pop is non cypher, no can do

And if you think I'm a dope, then ask the other crew

And I proceed to let you know, exactly how to flow

I'm not Lawn Doctor so just step off with the hoe

Oops my mistake I didn't know you went with her

Should I run down the line of the all the kids that done hit her

Don't be bitter, I hear that honey resembles a critter

I heard she likes to do one-one my man John Ritter

But back to the subject you can't catch wreck

You must get respect, to earn respect

Suckers think they could herb me cuz know I wear specks

You're full of jokes, but you your name ain't flex

I got the riches, the bitches, I'm large like a Huxtable

You think you're all that but you're girl's quite doable

Yeah, I'm tellin' you G, to back up off me

I'm not a mad cohort, but I'm not Mr. Softee

Rappin' is an art, coming straight from the heart

So forget the chart because the action can start

Two: Q-Tip

Where ya at? To all my peoples with the funk

I'm the undercover brother dump your hoe in the trunk

Save all the sad songs and the tearjerkers

Niggaz step back it's the lyrical worker

The poems that I create ain't in paper back books

The poems that I create are for hookers and the crooks

My mental is excelling cuz I dabble in the books

I'm not the one to front on, so suboops-suboops

Yo I gets the pickens, I'm such a damn Dickens

If you step to this then the plot just thickens

I'll run you around the track like a bunny and a dog

To me, your just another MC on the log

A link on the chain, fluid on the brain

I boast of hype lyrics, and yours are mundane

See I can't maintain, especially if you come back

I'm the lyrical master blaster, yeah I can do that

I can also do your girl, so leave the hoe at home

Cuz when I get done, I'll have her strung on bones

It's the no-joke pressure, that elevates my mind

Makes me pick up and go when it's time to drop my rhymes

My title is locked, the Abstract poetic

I'm in the idle mode but my energy's kinetic

So smooth and debonair, especially for the ear

Gotta keep my thing in gear cuz it's evident and clear

That I will rock, rock, rock (fades away)