The Honorable - Little Brother, Chaundon

Okay, we runnin it now

Like this baby, feel it Yo, get out your pens and pads, get out your pads and pens

Guitars, keyboards, 8-tracks and your mandolins

Its real music, real business that we handlin

Bout to bring the real shit back so stop the panickin

Go cast your votes on it and put your folks on it Pushing my knee sign but still payin notes on it It ain't a classic till that nigga 'Te done spoke on it Holy Grail shit, call the Vatican and poke on it With our

immaculate flows makin the fans cuckoo

Smackin my hoes leavin em bamboozled

I’m not a teacher, just a grand pupil

A Pit Bull walkin hard and talkin shit over these damn Poodles

That ain’t outspoken, there’s no way I could be outspoken

As long as 'Te is on the mic, ignite this mouse holdin

If niggas from the South ruin — the head doctor got your spouse chokin

With her mouth open, get it right bitches

Let’s get it on niggas, they thought they could hang with us Their bad, just a pain to us, we trained to flush

Out the weak links that’s chained to us Real cats can’t afford to give slack

We battle back, now the League’s in search of the ring

Championship watchers do our thing

Made for TV after-school specials and prime time

The latest talk shows, now every broad knows

And every squad goes to all of our shows

It’s so beautiful and that’s the usual

Heavy rotation, played on every radio station

US, Asia, even hero every vacation

It’s so plain to see it’s so plain to me This is not what I do, this is who I must be And its not just me cause it’s just we Hip Hop passed the torch, now I rest comfortably

I ain’t both of us but I can smell your feminine flagrance

So foul, rappers started callin me flagrant

Bein South dog is my duty

And I agree with Teddy Riley, when you on the mic I see booty

All your TV sounds obsolete

Why would I need BET when I got hits on the street?

Fuck who I offend when I say this

Cause your name show the first with an asterisk on Wendy Willaims gay list

You’re so wack I can’t stand it Your rap book is holdin onto more junk than Fred G. Stanford

You nicer than me?

Nigga please

You can battle like samurai and still take an L in Japanese

If my name’s in your mouth, every time the wind blows

I toss your Microsoft ass out of ninety-eight windows

Tough talk niggas be scared on the low

Every time I come around they speak in binary codes

Got em wishin all day that I disappear

Cause I keep startin new shit like freshman air

I’m about to climb the charts like «Pardon me dogs»

I keep motherfuckers jumpin like lottery boards motherfucker…