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Yoke The Joker

アーティスト：Naughty By Nature  アルバム：Naughty By Nature  作詞：BROWN VINCENT E/CRISS ANTHONY SHAWN/GIST KEIR LAMONT  作曲：BROWN VINCENT E/CRISS ANTHONY SHAWN/GIST KEIR LAMONT 

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Yoke the Joker!!!! *laughter* Intro: Treach There are too many overnight MC's but one And too many wacked who haven't paid dues You have now entered the path of the Flavor Unit and we are Naughty By Nature, and we will just do, by terminating you Verse 1: Treach I can snap, rap, pack, click-clack, patter-pat-pat Take that ass to the point you have to ask for your ass back A fuckin joker smoker, taunted by no one If I was born in Chung Li's temple I would've turned out a shogun Smack the any-and-all talk, jokers I can't hawk And all that shit I hear about me losin is small talk I ain't a punk, I'll slot'cha, furthermore I don't scare chief The reason I called you 'pussy' cos you are what you eat, each look is a little closer to the centre of a blowpipe Don't speak when I am talkin, this is my fuckin sho-op How dare you even try me? Don't you know you be funky, while you're smilin backstage doin mother, ugh, doggystyle Hot, wild, raw, whores' still suave *laughter* Check out this style that I've soul-simulated, sounds from a stocky semi-social, never seem sloppy See silly slappin suckers, sorry saps and slouchers Straps slammin stouch, mackin this mass is savvy We see so-so-songs and some shots, so snaps steppin separate, start slowly, go solo Set the cassette stereo, sounds diffin Stood the Sagittarian, some marriage is a system Smoke the joker, three times over and owe her, go with the flow or I'm about to yoke a joker Verse 2: Treach All that straight faced shit like your heart had been thru Smile and give your face somethin the fuck to do You're ugly, smugly, squiggly, dilly-wrinkled faced bastard Someone needs to hit and run ya to run ya ass over backwards Let's giddy up, yep yep, another fuck up Grab your microphone, battle time shown up Any freestyle I see while I prowl I dial a new style, tell me about ooh-chow Another victory, it's mystery I smoke your skull, your brain'll come blistery All fuzzy, dirty, dizzy, does he get the things he needs?



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