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philadelphia slick - r and b stole the show lyrics

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[noesis]
[verse one]
i grew up listening to das efx and dr dre
other rap, r and b, and some sh-t my momma played
i never knew beats were sampled
that snoop reinvented p-funk back when mtv was a decent channel
before i riggedy rocked mics or miggedy made beats
livin in safe streets with no particular day dreams
like boom box, walkman, discman
got caught in the corner playing ball – i couldn’t switch hands
mary and meth put together “all i need”
sugar hill/doe or die by miss jones and az
you know how that go
with the collabo
melodic hook, hypnotic cooking up the phat flow
that mix tape used to hit right
babyface, new edition, hi-five and brian mcknight
i was ignorant
believe if i heard stevie before
i’d never have bought one r and b cd
the fake sh-ts pop
the real sh-ts soul
fakes use a microwave when they meals get cold
call the fake dance
call the real sh-t funk
we call this – hip hop cause you can feel it bump

[hook]
r and b stole the show
it dont know how to sing, dont know how to flow
but yeah
r and b stole the show
its not quality, but thats how it goes
saying
r and b stole the show
it dont know how to sing, dont know how to flow
r and b stole the show
its not quality, but thats how it goes

[verse 2]
now now
i gotta settle down
my mind unsettled now
while you step to sound the burner on and turned the kettle brown
donnie brasco:
honor lost, battle medal found
looping up the levels forgetting about orchestral rounds
[push the pedal down](pending)
we rock so let the pebble bounce
i ain’ t telling yall if i ever get accounts
dead announcers pr-nounce rab in set amounts
stakeholders
payola and they repping loud
a question: “how you diggin that sh-t?”
a quick f-ck, yo that old sh-t was intimate sick
get into it quick
yall singers trying too hard
those who sing from the heart i give the highest regard
and i dont
care how many octaves you hit
dont care who’s behind the board or on top of the mix
boredom’s setting in like its the top of the sixth
pop in the disc
dismissed
i can resist
take it
out of the deck and straight
“throw it out the window”
to me no greater crime than going south with indo
lower down your limbs low
dont stray from the cause
do us both a favor and turn your radio off

[hook]
i dont have answers
this industry stinks of r and b like young weedheads and nag champa
without the lab cancer
ill keep my tap dancers
on beat on cleats while reading phat stanzas
break your rap standards
dog your cat manners
f-ck the dove, take the black panther from atlanta
underground map planner with a jackhammer
break the safe take the place after i hack scanners
everything from fingerprint to retina
fastb-lls and sinkers in, singers dont know the temperature
the times got me listening to older gs
trying to whistle and throw a nickle in the rotary
i’m not a neo-soul-phobe or boaster, see
i don’t really say what i like, that sh-t is molding me
whatever i grow to be
i know my kids gon’ listen to stevie wonder before they go to sleep
just because for me that sh-t was jodeci
never read the huckleberry finn or the moby d
here’s hoping for songwriting and singing
thats clinging to the last treble staff not blinging



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