Statik Selektah – But You Don’t Hear Me Tho (feat. The Lox & Mtume)

[Intro]
I’ve never told (ay man, the language brother)
Motherfucker, this ain’t back in the day
Statik what up?
LOX in this joint
This ain’t back in the day
Yeah
Mother–, mother–
Motherfucker, this ain’t back in the day
This ain’t back in the day
Back, back in the day

[Chorus: Mtume]
But you don’t hear me though
But you don’t hear me though
But you don’t hear me though
But you don’t hear me though

[Verse 1: Sheek Louch]
Bumping that Statik with the automatic on my hip
Blue whip, Navy paper plane, no, I ain’t a crip
We used to have the hallway fired up, smoking reefer
Yeah I went to school but KRS was the teacher (Boogie Down Productions)
And Abel had to hustle hard to get fresh for easter
Instead of celebrating Christ, I hit the noose twice
And fucked some lil’ bitch on the steps
I do reps with these new rappers, it’s cool though
The UFC, I’m still Judos
They high right now, I’m like kudos
But fuck that
Yo, I like that new money, shit done changed on the block
So I don’t reminisce even though I love Pete Rock
I give you bars, no microwave rap
Take it down South, but it’s gon’ be my version of trap
Dondon, the god, money is long
I can’t judge an artist off one song, but you don’t hear me though

[Chorus: Mtume]
But you don’t hear me though
But you don’t hear me though
But you don’t hear me though
But you don’t hear me though

[Verse 2: Styles P]
This ain’t back in the days
If it was the niggas sound different and give you a pound different
I don’t hate the trap but give me that boom bap
Yeah the 808 eating at the beats through the [?]
Told the owner Sal, veggies [?]
I used to freestyle for [?] for a bottle of [?]
No MTA cards, hop and it turns out
Catch the train on ’em
Get your ass whooped you brought the pain home
The days when you knocked on your man’s door
Yelled at the window so he could come outside
Drink a 40 like weed and y’all go and knock the grams off
Had to have hands or your shit was getting ran, dawg
[?]
45 [?] that was 10, yo
Thank God for this rap shit, clearly though
Back in the days it was real, but you don’t hear it though

[Chorus: Mtume]
But you don’t hear me though
But you don’t hear me though
But you don’t hear me though
But you don’t hear me though

[Verse 3: Jadakiss]
Niggas ‘cross town tryin’ to bomb me, I had the certified on me
‘Fore I knew it was foul, the [?]
Caught you doing some bullshit, they tell your mami
When loser draw, gotta go out if a nigga try me
When Jinny hooked up with Lionel, I had the Sugarhill vinyl
Before crack hit, it was just winos
Ride to [?] with no shooting
When nigga’s pops was hooping, heavy prostitution
Pirate radio was viciously on deck
Staying up late night with the tissue and the cassette
Hip hop is everything I got
Around this time, I was hooked on the King of Rock
I just wanna rap, I’ma go give this thing a shot
Looking back, I done never thought that this thing’ll pop
Nah, right now I’m proud to be a part of the family
And you standing there just looking at me
But you don’t hear me though

[Chorus: Mtume]
But you don’t hear me though
But you don’t hear me though
But you don’t hear me though
But you don’t hear me though

[Outro]
Motherfucker, this ain’t back in the day
This ain’t back in the day
Mother–, mother–
Motherfucker, this ain’t back in the day
This ain’t back in the day
Back, back in the day
But you don’t hear me though
But you don’t hear me though

Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth – Mecca and the Soul Brother (Wig Out Mix) Lyrics

[Verse 1]
Okay, you wanna act trife and flip the script
With your Wonderama drama slash coma riff
That you’re kickin like Pele, flows even Bo knows
My versatility capability is simply bourgie
Y to the o-u-n-g, another G-to the u-n-s
Let’s back up, shortie, from the naughty like shorty
Berry Gordy with a forty gettin papes, oh Lordy
Claim you shoot more rounds than an Uzi
Stop the violence, cause ya can’t do me
New York to L.A. say what I play
So catch a runaway smooth like a Billie Holiday
You couldn’t bag me, boy, with a hefty
Train like Rocky but still can’t step to me
So take a hint, money, leave it alone
And play like Stephanie Mills and ‘find a home’
Plus I never boogaloo with Yacub
When mixed with the tricks in a alphabet stew
When I design a army I can reign
But never have more beef than Saddam Hussein
The Night Cap, so prepare for a cat scan
When I turn your brain into Moogoo Gai-Pan
Finger-lickin the papes like there is no other
Mecca and the Soul Brother

(Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth) –] Heavy D
Mecca and the Soul Brother

(Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth was on stage drinkin Cisco) –] Heavy D

[ VERSE 2: C.L. Smooth ]
Schizophrenic, on a panic I do work
When you lurk with the professional ceremonial expert
The bold swinger, the Asiatic acrobatic
Lovable, sing the blues when I tap it
Save the mystery for Agatha Christie
Gimme a break, better wake Chief Kanisky
I’m not your ordinary modern day cliche
Cause I’m here to save you little lost souls anyway
Go with the flow with the flutes when it exectues
Any comp livin got buried in black suits
The limelight, never let it confuse you
It’s a _Fantasy Island_ without a Tattoo
The hardcore few tend to look for
It’s true, can’t buy a knuckle game in the stores
Makin movies like your name is Faye Dunaway
To hear the rumor echo in the project’s hallway
You wanna fast break, me no static
But Mister Whipple can’t dribble like Magic
I yolk em up in domination, nerds got scrambled
The Tony Randall left in shambles
Finger-lickin the papes like there is no other
Mecca and the Soul Brother

(Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth) –] Heavy D
Mecca and the Soul Brother

(Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth was on stage drinkin Cisco) –] Heavy D

[ VERSE 3: C.L. Smooth ]
Let me see..
Pete Rock is like salad dressing
When I toss another lesson
Ready or not, prime time after seven (kicki it)
I pull women like a wisdom tooth
Without any conversation with Doctor Ruth (kick it baby)
Makin all the girls wind with the glamity
‘When Doves Cry’, Apollonia and Vanity
Picture the Mary Jane frame on a mantle
Consider me a vandal the Virgin can’t handle
And never clown downtown with Pat Sajak
Popping that yang riffin “Homie don’t play dat”
So don’t gas the kid to make a movie
While I’m smackin a booty who just love to rock a doobie
Even though I make petty cash like a beggar
With no stash I make a Air bet and knit a sweater sweater
So the Night Cap of rappin, no slackin, backin
Hand clappin, feet tappin Chief and Captain
Could finger-lick the papes like there is no other
Mecca and the Soul Brother

(Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth) –] Heavy D
Mecca and the Soul Brother

(Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth was on stage drinkin Cisco) –] Heavy D