So What'cha Want

Album: Check Your Head (1992)
Charted: 93
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  • (To Mario C, you can't front on that)

    Well, just plug me in just like I was Eddie Harris
    You're eating crazy cheese like you would think I'm from Paris
    You know I get fly, you think I get high
    You know that I'm gone and I'm-a tell you all why

    So tell me who are you dissing, maybe I'm missing
    The reason that you're smilin' or wildin', so listen
    In my head, I just want to take 'em down
    Imagination set loose and I'm gonna shake 'em down

    Let it flow like a mud-slide
    When I get on, I like to ride and glide
    I've got depth of perception in my text, y'all
    I get props at my mention cause I vex, y'all

    So, so what'cha, what'cha, what'cha want? (what'cha want?)
    I get so funny with my money that you flaunt
    I said, "Where'd you get your information from" huh?
    You think that you can front when revelation comes?
    (Yeah, you can't front on that)

    Well they call me Mike D, the ever-loving man
    I'm like Spoonie Gee, well I'm the metropolitician (yeah-yeah-yeah)
    You scream and you holler 'bout my Chevy Impala
    But the sweat is getting wet around the ring around your collar

    But like a dream I'm flowing without no stopping
    Sweeter than a cherry pie with Reddi-wip topping
    From mic to mic, kickin' it wall to wall
    Well, I'll be calling out to people like a casting call

    Ah, well, it's wack when you're jacked in the back of my ride
    With your know, with your flow, when you're out getting by
    Believe me, what you see is what you get
    And you see me, I'm comin' off as you can bet

    Well I think I'm losing my mind, this time
    This time I'm losing my mind, that's right
    Said I think I'm losing my mind, this time
    This time, I'm losing my mind

    (Yeah, you can't front on that)

    But little do you know about something that I talk about
    I'm tired of driving, it's due time that I walkabout
    But in the meantime, I'm wise to the demise
    I've got eyes in the back of my head so I realize

    Well, I'm Dr. Spock, I'm here to rock, y'all
    I want you off the wall, if you're playing the wall
    I said what'cha, what'cha, what'cha want? (what'cha want?)
    I said what'cha, what'cha, what'cha want? (what'cha want?)

    Y'all suckers write me checks and then they bounce
    So I reach into my pocket for the fresh amount
    See, I'm the long-leaner, Vincent the Cleaner
    I'm the illest motherfucker from here to Gardena

    Well, I'm as cool as a cucumber in a bowl of hot sauce
    You've got the rhyme and reason, but got no cause
    But if you're hot to trot, you think you're slicker than grease
    I've got news for you crews, you'll be sucking like a leech

    (Yeah, you can't front on that)

    So what'cha, what'cha, what'cha want? (what'cha want?)
    So what'cha, what'cha, what'cha want? (what'cha want?)
    I said, what'cha, what'cha, what'cha want? (what'cha want?)
    I said, what'cha, what'cha, what'cha want? (what'cha want?) Writer/s: Adam Horovitz, Adam Nathaniel Yauch, Michael Louis Diamond
    Publisher: Universal Music Publishing Group
    Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind

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