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Intro: Q-Tip |
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Here we come yo, here we come |
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Here we come yo, here we come |
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Here we come yo, here we come |
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Here we come yo, here we come |
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Here we come yo, here we come |
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Here we come yo, here we come |
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Verse 1: Q-Tip |
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I'm just a brotherman, descendant of the motherland |
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I **** with blackberries and dimes and butter tens |
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Good on my right and trouble on my other hand |
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Life is a tight rope I'm dyin' the balance in |
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And by the end hopefully I be the balance-man |
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A simple dude who can exude the talents and |
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I am the captain of the hot blooded caravan |
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Spread in a different look to charred and battered lands |
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It's outta function I see girls that can top it off |
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I hold mines while these cowboys pop it off |
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You just a movie-dude claimin' that you pop-soft |
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This shit's like cold grits without the hot sauce |
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This government seems to me like it's off course |
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Hook: Q-Tip |
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Come on, come on, let's move! And get down (like it's off course) |
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Come on, come on, let's move! (This government) and get down |
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Come on, come on, let's move! And get down (ride with me) |
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Come on, come on, let's move! And get down |
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Verse 2: Q-Tip |
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Your dubious style may rock for right now |
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But in the long run, you really lost one |
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Jamaica, Queens, man, land of the tossed gun |
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It's never easy, po-lice not sees we |
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Go through the checkpoints birds flip to po nine |
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I got a bad bird nicknamed her sunshine |
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I treats her so kind sweetening her at nighttime |
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Into the right tunes we hit the right rhymes |
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I dig her fashion smash into my memory |
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And in the club shorty stays real into me |
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A humble dude and never will pretend to be |
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The type of artist that's desired for the industry |
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Came in this ****a me and I'm a leave me |
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And in the end B you would believe me that I'm a leave me |
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So what's a industry if the listeners will always stand beside me? |
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Hook: Q-Tip |
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Come on, come on, let's move! And get down |
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Come on, come on, let's move! And get down |
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Come on, come on, let's move! And get down |
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Come on, come on, let's move! And get down |
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Outro: Q-Tip |
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Here we come yo, here we come |
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Here we come yo, here we come |
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Here we come yo, here we come |
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Here we come yo, here we come |
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Here we come yo, here we come |
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Here we come yo, here we come |
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Verse 1 |
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Gather around, the Renaissance man has finally appeared |
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And I'm astonishing rap characters are cause of the tears |
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Quasimodo and the quotables excrete from my mouth |
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And no doubt, we rubbed you wrong and rubbin you out |
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To try to tackle such a problem is a foolish goal |
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And when the opposition's Abstract, bless your soul |
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There are degrees of MCs but none on the level |
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Of the other vocalist, precious like metal |
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Makin all my rounds through the towns like physician |
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I be curing impure emcees, plagued with disease |
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So take a spoonful of Poet Penicillin and |
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Sit back and listen to your man as I fill it in the Renaissance.. |
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R-r-rap, Renaissance... |
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This is the Renaissance.. |
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This is the Renaissance.. |
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Verse 2 |
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So here we go, now |
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It is the Midnight Marauder on the scene |
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Geographically earthed in a place called Queens |
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I was formed with my principles, way I displayed |
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How I used to MC where all the other kids played |
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Cause I was way too ill, so I would hone my skill |
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And go out in the park and let my chemicals spill |
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Right there, on Farmers Boulevard, I made my mark |
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Two dudes, niggas would dip from us, me, and NARCS |
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And then my, legend would grow on the A-train line |
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Where brothers would gather to see me blowin nicks and dimes |
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It was me, Big, Pete, Tanya, and Sir Ibu |
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And the heat of the cipher, I was not libel |
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From all the casualties of the dutty MCs |
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I split the train car like Moses did the Red Sea |
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So get it in ya head, we gon' rock the dead |
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Night of the living MCs', the weak ones fled |
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And the stage is the pulpit, Renaissance won't quit |
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We gon' baptize y'all for your benefit |
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We been aligned and assigned to change |
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Rearrange all your molecules like Dr. Strange |
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Making cultures move, if you disapprove |
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You can keep loudmouthin, ain't gon bust a groove |
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You see the object of the game is we don't see it as one |
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We don't quit, bullshit, and we never lost, son |
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Deeper than the oceans and expand like air |
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We be vast indeed and if your hearing's impaired |
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We got the perfect remedy for you tonight |
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Just put your ear to it, it's like dynamite |
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And it's the Renaissance Rap |
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Uh, uh, it's the Renaissance... |
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It is the Renaissance |
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Uh...cause it's the Renaissance |
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It's the Renaissance...Rap |
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It is the Renaissance Rap... |
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Verse 3 |
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Now lookin at ya clock, you know that it's time |
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To hear real ill beats combinated with rhymes |
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Brought to you by the person at the T-O-P |
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That be G-O-D, and I be T-I-P |
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The promoter of the flyness, witness wit iris |
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Of this lame and he came, but I'm the royal highness |
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Don't'cha ever forget, who put the pep in ya step |
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We made it cool to wear medallions and say hotep |
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And this beat is suh'thin that you can't recover up from |
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You better off joinin the force because we can't be done |
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Listen, we on this mission and it's a go |
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So welcome to the Renaissance in stereo |
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It's the Renaissance |
