Jazz (We've Got)

Album: The Low End Theory (1991)
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  • We got the jazz, we got the jazz
    We got the jazz, we got the jazz
    We got the jazz, we got the jazz
    We got the jazz, we got the jazz

    Stern firm and young with a laid-back tongue
    The aim is to succeed and achieve at 21
    Just like Ringling Brothers, I'll daze and astound
    Captivate the mass, 'cause the prose was profound
    Do it for the strong, we do it for the meek
    Boom it in your boom it in your boom it in your Jeep
    Or your Honda or your Beemer or your Legend or your Benz
    The rave of the town to your foes and your friends
    So push it, along, trails, we blaze
    Don't deserve the gong, don't deserve the praise
    The tranquility will make ya unball your fist
    For we put hip-hop on a brand new twist
    A brand new twist with a whole heap of mystic
    So low-key that ya probably missed it
    And yet it's so loud that it stands in the crowd
    When the guy takes the beat, they bowed
    So raise up squire, address your attire
    We have no time to wallow in the mire
    If you're on a foreign path, then let me do the lead
    Join in the essence of the cool-out breed
    Then cool out to the music cause it makes ya feel serene
    With the birds and the bees and all those groovy things
    Like getting stomach aches when ya gotta go to work
    Or staring into space when you're feeling berserk
    I don't really mind if it's over your head
    'Cause the job of resurrectors is to wake up the dead
    So pay attention, it's not hard to decipher
    And after the horns, you can check out the Phifer

    We got the jazz, we got the jazz
    We got the jazz, we got the jazz
    We got the jazz, we got the jazz
    We got the jazz, we got the jazz

    Competition, dem try fi come sideway
    But competition, dem must come straight way
    Competition, dem try fi come sideway
    But competition, dem must come straight way
    Hows' about that? It seems like it's my turn again
    All through the years my mic has been my best friend
    I know some brothers wonder, can Phifer really kick it?
    Some even wanna diss me, but why sweat it?
    I'm all into my music cause it's how I make papes
    Tryin' to make hits, like Kid Capri makes tapes
    Me sweat another? I do my own thing
    Strictly hardcore tracks, not a new jack swing
    I grew up as a Christian so to Jah I give thanks
    Collect my banks, listen to Shabba Ranks
    I sing, and chat, I do all of that
    It's 1991 and I refuse to come wack
    I take off my hat to other crews that tend to rock
    But the Low End Theory's here, it's time to wreck shop
    I got Tip and Shah, so whom shall I fear?
    Stop look and listen, but please don't stare
    So jet to the store, and buy the LP
    On Jive/RCA, cassettes and CD's
    Produced and arranged by the four-man crew
    And oh shit, Skiff Anselm, he gets props too
    Make sure you have a system with some phat house speakers
    So the new shit can rock, from Mars to Massapequa
    'Cause where I come from quality is job one
    And everybody up on Linden know we get the job done
    So peace to that crew, and peace to this crew
    Bring on the tour, we'll see you at a theatre nearest you

    Ayo but wait, back it up, hup, easy back it up
    Please let the Abstract embellish on the cut
    Back and forth just like a Cameo song
    If you dig this joint then please come dance along
    To the music cause it's done just for the rhyme
    Now I gotta scat and get mine, underline
    The jazz, the what? The jazz can move that ass
    For the Tribe originates that feelin' of pizzazz
    It's the universal sound, best to brothers underground
    In the ones six below, ya didn't have to go
    Some say that I'm eccentric 'cause I once had an orgy
    And sometimes for breakfast I eat grits and porgies
    If this is a stinker, then call me a skunk, I ask
    "What? What? What?" now, check it out

    All my peoples in Queens ya don't stop
    Now all my peoples in Brooklyn ya don't stop
    And all my peoples uptown ya don't stop
    That includes the Bronx and Harlem ya don't stop
    Now to that girl Ramelle ya don't stop
    I say because Ladies First ya don't stop
    And to the JB's, ya don't stop
    And De La Soul, ya don't stop
    To my Brand Nubians ya don't stop
    And to my Leaders of the New ya don't stop
    To my man Large Professor ya don't stop
    Pete Rock for the beat ya don't stop
    Everybody in the place ya don't stop
    Ya keep it on, to the rhythm, ya don't stop
    And last but not least on the sure shot
    It's the Zulu nation Writer/s: Ali Shaheed Jones-Muhammad, Bronislaw Kaper, Kamaal Ibn John Fareed, Malik Izaak Taylor, Ned Washington
    Publisher: Audiam, Inc., Reservoir Media Management, Inc., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group
    Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind

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