• Lyrics: play full screen play karaoke
• Return of the Product - Mc Serch
• Hard But True - Mc Serch
• Don't Have To Be - Mc Serch
• Here It Comes Again (remix) - Mc Serch
• Here It Comes - Mc Serch
• Scenes From The Mind - Mc Serch
• Hits The Head - Mc Serch
• Back To The Grill - Mc Serch
• Social Narcotics - Mc Serch
• Daze In A Weak - Mc Serch
• Can You Dig It - Mc Serch

So y'all thought I was comin back with some old R&B; huh?
Check it...
Here it, comes!
Yo, here it is or there it was
But where was it when you need it? Because
You fall to the waistline when you waste rhymes
Serch got it flowin when it comes to fat beats and basslines
I heard the rumors and the fables
Remove them like tumors on the tables
Boomers for the willing and the able
So turn to the next page in your manual and flim-flam, all over the jam
Chill
Lounge
Kick your ten little toes up at the end of this
Razor blade and save your spade
As the groove pummets you to another dimension
May I just mention
This is a map, it's for all made for climbin
And you're stuck to your grip like an aluminum sidin
Hiding in the back is for crumbs
Hon, here it comes!
Hit it off
Kick it off
Hit it off
Here it, comes!
B-boys, decots will try to destroy
Delpoy the truth in black hoods and black boots
Caps get rocked only when they're fitted
Lyrics get dropped only when they're lifted
So swing time is one up, the vo-chords run amuck
Whatup? Whatup? I got mine and you got yours
War's a factor, we'll perspire
And someone in the crow yells fire fire
we don't need no water, let it burn yo burn yo
We don't need no water let it burn... so it burnt
Learn your lesson well, if I don't then I guess you get jelled
Swell, heads go down like the sun and here it comes
[Chorus]
Fiddle-fee, fiddle-fie, fiddle-foe, fiddle-fum
I smell the blood of an English
muffin, huffin and puffin
sellin his soul, J-E-L-L-O, ya know?
Roll with the squad who makes back flips stack
Hits upon this so play at your own risk
Tisk, tisk, tisky, ya shoulda used Wisk
Now you shouldn't appeal to be a Biff
Insist that your motor's on scramble
Remember the skips and enter the sample
Ample flow is created by the tears and years
Of proved and blue, perched on the front steps
Checkin for the bass loop
So the troops pulled out and the tows are paid, set and done
And here it comes...
I said here it comes!
[Chorus]

"This is probably the most challenging record
you have ever put on your turntable.."
[MC Serch]
The facts, the facts get fried like your eggs scrambled
truth until it falls off the ledge lays dead or vexed
Tennis feds(?) need the last price, gassed ego
He don't show or know about the last nights and days
of a brother who went for his
My land built on hatred and sent to kids
Ice Cube killed his own and it was square biz
So if I say fuck you to a jew, you know what time it is
Of my own kind but not of my own mind
Came to America but became blind
Chased from the four corners of the earth
But over here it's alright, at least your ass is white
So sit down and mingle with the devil over supper
The only difference between us and a brother is the color
Instead of hittin the last nail in the coffin try to pull it out
And find out what the hard but true is all about
[Chorus]
It's hard.. but it's true
The hard but the true
It's hard.. but it's true
The hard but the true
So hard.. but so true
The hard but the true
It's hard.. but it's true
The hard but the true
[MC Serch]
Hard, what? Truth sometimes too hard to be true
So I'ma make it stick like glue
Too many times too many crimes get backed up
Case comes up, oops! Switch all the facts up
Three kids rape a sister at St. John's
and become graduates, instead of cons
Instead of washin drawers or be somebody's whore
College wack buffed and polished and they kept the doors closed
Jail time (yeah?) Wasn't even fazin 'em
Probably one of the fathers gave the school a gymnasium
Korean kills a girl and claims insane, and gets a pardon?
Bring her honor to the court of Nickerson Garden
And get a lifetime sentence of the bent over
Tell a fool, tell a friend and then sent over
Hollow point slugs made of nothin but lead
The hard but true is takin you straight to the head
[Chorus]
[MC Serch]
Reggie McBride, yeah..
Asalaam alaikum to a Muslim
Shalom alaikum is the same to a Hebrew
Peace akeem, akeem peace to a Zulu
Tell me what's the difference why you riffin what's the point of view?
Universal greeting is the same
The game is three-sixty it don't matter what the slang
Gangs of thugs carry slugs use the mind as a glock 9
Wake the ones then shake the ones
then make the ones come into the daytime
And spark the mark labelled X
And knowledge the text
Use the wit not as a whip reload the clip then shoot from the hip
Cause yo! This is some ol' next shit
One circle, one hurdle, one jump
One nation under the groove, and then over the hump
of racist dogs, that keep barkin in the street
Serch'll bring the hard but true to your feet, complete!
[Outro]
It's hard.. but it's true
The hard but the true
It's hard.. but yo, it's true
The hard but the true
It's hard.. but it's true
The hard but the true
So hard.. so true
The hard but the true
Yeah Wolf & Epic, cool
Ay you, ay you ay you, ay you ay you
Ay you, it's hard but it's true
Ay you, ay you ay you ay you
It's hard but it's true, you hebrew or you jew
Your christian, your muslim, your islam, your brother, your sister

[VERSE 1]
I can be paid, and don't have to have money
Jump off a bridge, and don't have to use bungee
I like Cypress Hill, and don't have to smoke blunts
And when the beat comes in, you don't have to jump
Oh yeah, it don't have to be 'oh no'
Serch rides the rhythm, but it doesn't have to flow
You can be beefin, and not be a Tom
Go get skins, and don't have to be a John
I can raise the roof, and not have a home
Go solo, and don't have to be alone
I can be Simon, and don't have to draw
Step to the a.m. and not sit by the door
I can have pockets, and don't have to be swollen
Fat-ass beat, and it don't have to be stolen
Went a 1000 places, and didn't have to be hike that
World full of hate, and it don't have to be like that
[CHORUS]
And it don't quit
And it don't stop
When it don't quit
Then it don't stop
When it don't quit
Then it don't stop
It keeps on and on [x2]
[VERSE 2]
I can come ghetto, and don't have to be a bastard
Hold a conversation, and don't have to have the last word
Shoot the gift swift, and not miss the street
Even - ehm - and not come off the beat
Oh yeah, be ??? without shootin at the earth
Even be gold, and not have any worth
You can beat beef, and don't need utensils
Write ruff rhymes without pens and pencils
Mad low end, and I don't have any treble
Be like rock, and it don't have to metal
Be in Detroit and don't have to be a Piston
Tell me a white lie, yo, I don't have to listen
I can walk, and I don't have the need
Catch a cut, but I don't have to bleed
Go to a club, and I don't have to sweat
Chill, time to go, but you don't have to get up yet
[CHORUS]
[VERSE 3]
I can be the U.S., and don't have to war
I can get open, and don't need any door
I can get loud, and don't have to scream
Peace to Dr. King, and don't forget about the dream
Oh yes, oh yes, I don't have to be a yes-man
Go get married, and don't have to have a best man
I can be positive, and don't have to be a plus
If you're not gettin papes, then you're not down with Rush
I can have skills, and don't need a trade
I can be in London, don't have to like rain
Nots, nots, nots, and not have any rope
Go take a shower, but don't need any soap
Point me to the mic, I need no rehearsal
Yes, I'm the man, there'll be no role reversal
I can be blue, and don't have to be the jeans
Don't wear the X hat when you don't know what it means

[MC Serch]
Here it comes! Yo here it is or there it was
But where was it when you need it? Because
You fall to the waistline when you waste rhymes
Serch got a flow when it comes to fat beats and basslines
I heard the rumors and the fables
Remove them like the tumors on tables
Boomers for the willing and the able
So turn to the next page in your manual
and flim-flam, all over the jam
Chill, lounge - kick your ten little toes up
at the edge of this razor blade and save your spade
As the groove plummets you to another dimension
May I just mention
This is a map, it's for all made for climbin
And you're stuck to your crib like aluminum sidin
Hidin in the back is for crumbs..
And here it comes!
[Chorus]
Here it comes, HERE IT COMES? [x8]
[MC Serch]
B-boy decoys will try to destroy
Deploy the truth in black hoods and black boots
Caps get rocked only when they're fitted
Lyrics get dropped only when they're lifted
So swing to the swell of the vo-chords run amuck
Whatup? Whatup? I got mine and you got yours
Paws are backed up with perspire
And someone in the crowd yells, "Fire fire!"
(We don't need no water, let it burn yo, burn yo
We don't need no water let it burn...) so it burnt
Learn your lesson well, if I don't then I guess you get jelled
Swell, heads go down like the sun..
And here it comes!
[Chorus]
[MC Serch]
Here it.. comes, here it.. comes
Here it.. comes, here it.. comes
Here it.. comes, here it.. comes
Here it.. comes, here it.. comes!
Fiddle-fee, fiddle-fie, fiddle-foe, fiddle-fum
I smell the blood of an English.. muffin
Huffin and puffin, sellin his soul
J-E-L-L-O, y'know?
Roll with the squad who makes backflips stack
Hits upon disc, so play at your own risk
Tisk, tisk, tisk, shoulda used Wisk
So now you sit and appeal to the Abyss
Insist that your motor's on scramble
Enter the beats and enter the sample
Ample flow is created by the years and the peers
of crews and boos, perched on the front stoop
Checkin for the bass loop
So the troops roll out and the tolls are paid, said and done
And here it comes...
I said here it comes!
[Chorus]
Hit it off, kick it off.. hit it off, kick it off
Hit of off, kick it off.. here it - comes!
Hit it off.. kick it off..
Hit it off.. here it - comes!
[MC Serch]
Aiyyo dumb shoutouts on the remix tip to my man T-Ray
Once again comin up with the fla-VOR!
Anton Koschanski, on the drums (word)
On the guitar (word) on the two-four (WORD!)
With his feet on the floor (WHAT?!)
Givin mad shout outs out to my peoples in Brooklyn (Brooklyn)
To my peoples in Queens (Queens)
To my peoples in the South Bronx (South Bronx)
To all my peoples in Brooklyn (Crooklyn)
To all my peoples in L.A. (L.A.)
To all my peoples in Canada.. (Canada)
To all my peoples in Europe.. (Europe)
To all my peoples in Sweden.. (Sweden!)
To all my peoples in Israel (Is-ra-el)
To my peoples on the moon (On the moon?)
To all my peoples on the sun (Yo, you're buggin)
To my peoples with the weebles, that don't fall down, ha ha ha!
(You're buggin kid!) Peace!
Here it comes, here it comes?
Here it comes, here it comes?
Here it comes, here it comes?
Here it comes, here it comes? [fades out..]
I'm in a funky way, I'm in a funky way!

So y'all thought I was comin back with some old R&B; huh?
Check it...
Here it, comes!
Yo, here it is or there it was
But where was it when you need it? Because
You fall to the waistline when you waste rhymes
Serch got it flowin when it comes to fat beats and basslines
I heard the rumors and the fables
Remove them like tumors on the tables
Boomers for the willing and the able
So turn to the next page in your manual and flim-flam, all over the jam
Chill
Lounge
Kick your ten little toes up at the end of this
Razor blade and save your spade
As the groove pummets you to another dimension
May I just mention
This is a map, it's for all made for climbin
And you're stuck to your grip like an aluminum sidin
Hiding in the back is for crumbs
Hon, here it comes!
Hit it off
Kick it off
Hit it off
Here it, comes!
B-boys, decots will try to destroy
Delpoy the truth in black hoods and black boots
Caps get rocked only when they're fitted
Lyrics get dropped only when they're lifted
So swing time is one up, the vo-chords run amuck
Whatup? Whatup? I got mine and you got yours
War's a factor, we'll perspire
And someone in the crow yells fire fire
we don't need no water, let it burn yo burn yo
We don't need no water let it burn... so it burnt
Learn your lesson well, if I don't then I guess you get jelled
Swell, heads go down like the sun and here it comes
[Chorus]
Fiddle-fee, fiddle-fie, fiddle-foe, fiddle-fum
I smell the blood of an English
muffin, huffin and puffin
sellin his soul, J-E-L-L-O, ya know?
Roll with the squad who makes back flips stack
Hits upon this so play at your own risk
Tisk, tisk, tisky, ya shoulda used Wisk
Now you shouldn't appeal to be a Biff
Insist that your motor's on scramble
Remember the skips and enter the sample
Ample flow is created by the tears and years
Of proved and blue, perched on the front steps
Checkin for the bass loop
So the troops pulled out and the tows are paid, set and done
And here it comes...
I said here it comes!

Once upon a time ago, long before commercialized
Beats became sysnthesized and little girls were mezmerized
There was one mic and one light in a hip-hop shack
And you moved the masses or they moved you out the back
Slack with the skills and you'll never pay the bills
Buying up the brands with the octaginal frills
But when a brother flexed, we called him the Flexor
Beats were the melody, lyrics were the texture
Rhymes were webbed and the Serch light got stuck in
So follow for the record or keep keep on truckin'
Maybe you need the method of finding what the vibe is
Recollect the whole nine just like the Prince of Tides did
Playing what's funny with Muhammed, Tip, and Phife
It's keeping it alive, not a dive from the live
But the dead so selector rewind
To the scenes that are imprinted in my mind
Recollect, the recollections, recollect
The recollections, recollect
The recollections, recollect
The scenes from the mind
Swing with the groove that got you swinging from the rafters
808 state for the kids to the gafflers
Make an impact the community can check for
And if you're on the legend tip, nuff respect for
Coming back to the crew and not to every but T-shirt
Every lunchbox, wack record, don't give a damn
Fan club, yabba dabba doo dud
You can make the fattest record yo, and still be crud
Brothers want to keep you in the heart where the home is
Where the dome is and definitely where the microphone is
Serch knows the one light is bright and don't stench and
Don't bend, so friend, I'll send the flowers to
The funeral home of the hip-hop devoured by the
Mass appeal, you get the seal of removal
Not approval, cause only Woodsy Owl gives a hoot
So nice casket nice suit
Loot can be got for the long haul by the six recs
Down the road and you can still hit the long ball
Out of there, over there to the spectators in aisle nine
Who ain't heard Quest when they told them "Check the Rhyme"
I ain't eating no green eggs and swine
I ain't eating no green eggs and swine
I ain't eating no green eggs and swine
As I recollect the scenes from my mind, flute time
Recollect, the recollections, recollect
The recollections, recollect
The recollections, recollect
The scenes from the mind [x2]
Back to the mic to the stand to the light
>From the globe to the lobe to the inner ear so all night
Different tracks can be heard in different arenas
For the clubs, the heads, the rides, the Beemers
Somebody starts checking for the fact Serch is long gone
So I rip clubs from LA to Strech Armstrong
Along the tribal road we lose parts too easily
So I say peace to Eric and Beasly
Bobbito and the '97 street crew
Sec Lover, my brother Honululu
Which and proper Tom is the call for the firm grips
Serch fixes his rhymes, shoots 'em on the sperm tip
Milky is the flow, I hope it stays protected
A&R; gets respect for being more selective
Cause gone are the days of the deaf, dumb, and brain dead
And I close the book on the scenes from the head
Recollect, the recollections, recollect
The recollections, recollect
The recollections, recollect

Parties all around start checkin for the substance
The context you suspect, but I expect
when Serchlite hits the break..
.. headache, BREAK FOOL
with the groove that's strictly metropolitan
Past go, I'll let you go again the pen emulates
what's heard from the four wheel
And Babyface ain't never seen this crazy whip appeal
Sealed with the hits and blow cause I got hits to go
fists to flow Michel'le Michelle-low under the mistletoe
I let my missle go, yo
Hands get pound, when it comes down to slick rhymes
No respect in the deuce cool I'm vickin mines
Burnished in New York kids that rolled diesel
Kids swoll big like they were shootin up an AIDS needle
So cling to your mom's memories, calamity's a remedy
to recollect childhood memory lane
Envision, the picture, the frame
The beat that rumbles into the brain
Stains grim gloom carefree feelin, up a buildin cap peelin
Slash from the unwillin blastin off, passin off
to the prevention, locked in detention
Wielding fiends, your dome starts STRETCHIN
To hit the hot spot, and stomp hysterical
The groove that makes you thank God for miracles
Pinnacles are peakin there you find Serch..
.. hittin heads until the head hurts
Migraine, motherfuckin migraine
Migraine, motherfuckin migraine, migraine
Motherfuckin migraine, migraine
Motherfuckin migraine
Rhythm rung gets designed for the kind
that's the deaf the dumb and blind seen here and stated with that
And if you're not gonna hit that, let me rip that
rhythm hit the rhymes, we give 'em, we leave 'em
Then we'll ghost to the most so the concrete is secured
to endure, three-hundred and sixty-five days of the unsure
is the way the crumb comes clompin
That's why these boots were made for stompin
Comp is little to none, when the riddle is sung
When who is rappin no beats gets paid
The answer as he gets sprayed by the kids who survived
the playground, of the steel
Who used a fat and funky, as a sort of shiv
Deal to the crew that rolls in batallions
If water was slaughter I'd have to order by the gallon
Pestacides killed the pests, the rest are out the back
like sweats so jump out the projects, out the building
Out your condo, out your crib, out your co-op!
And let me rip the hip-hop again
Oh shit, Skeff Anslem, he gets props again
Let out the grunt, let out the funk, from out your trunk
Feel the bass and let it PUMP PUMP PUMP
Migraine, motherfuckin migraine
Migraine, motherfuckin migraine, migraine
Motherfuckin migraine, migraine
Motherfuckin migraine, migraine
Motherfuckin migraine, migraine
Motherfuckin migraine, migraine
Motherfuckin migraine, migraine
Motherfuckin migraine
I ain't got no DJ, but that's alright
I ain't got no dancers, but that's alright
I ain't got no choir, but that's alll-riiiiight
All I got left is the mic..
.. SO STRIKE UP THE BAND MAN, as I command man
Float up the damn damn, wash away the flim-flam
Knick-knack quick wack paddywack, give a dog a stick
Then hop off my dialect quick
to the throat I choke, I I need a Coke
cause I got somethin in my throat.. AHHA-AHEM! Better?
Let no one get no one up gassed here
on the throttle catch a back of a forty bottle
Models can't roll put a toll into the parkin meter
Crowds around two kids in a four seater
Pack attack crunch from the boom
To give a brother ROOM, TO BREATHE, LEAVE
And pull the card our your sleeve, you're free to roam
as the beat hits the head until you gets home
Migraine, migraine motherfuckin migraine
Migraine motherfuckin migraine
Migraine motherfuckin migraine
Motherfuckin migraine migraine!
Motherfuckin migraine migraine!!
Migraine motherfuckin migraine migraine!!
MIGRAINE? MOTHERFUCKIN MIGRAINE MIGRAINE?!

[Chorus:]
Back to the grill again, the grill again [x6]
[MC Serch]
You need a posse the size of the Nazis to attack this
And you're more optomistic than the Sounds of Blackness
Flip lines that rip through the chest cavity
And I keep going and going just like an Energizer battery
Flattery will get you nowhere, unless it's the derriere
And that'll get you everywhere
Went to the flea market, was in the cark, parked it
Big fat blunts, if you got it then spark it
And with the fisticuffs came the fists
And you've joined Steven Segal on the Marked for Death hitlist
Went back to the 70's and brothers got on grants
Cause they can step to some sisters and say "Slap me some skins"
Honeydip, and take the squad to the teepee
Hit it off, smoke a cig, watch a little TV
And if there ain't no papes there's no show
I'll just chill and return to kick em in the grill
[Chorus]
[Red Hot Lover Tone]
Bust a style while I do it, if you know it oh you knew it
If you knew it then you knew it, if I catch a punk chewin
Imma drop the flavor fluid on his head, yep I flew it
And like Aretha Franklin, your moms is jumping to it
So, so, so, where did you go, what do ya know
SO many people want to be fly like Joe
G.I., E.I., oh lots and lots
And rapper can top the Red Hot (Not!)
R&B; rips hip-hop (Not!)
MC Serch is gonna flip-flop (Not!)
All my hoes look like sasquatch (Not!)
And George Bush gets nuff props
Well, anyway, Imma slay slay lay
Pull a hoe around my way and make hooker souffle
Red Hot Lover Tone would like to thank MC Serch
Yo, you're chill for making me a part of history
Kicking em in the grill
[Nas]
Finesse, keep a Tech-9 in my dresser
Lyrical professor, keep you under pressure
Mind like a computer, the inserter
Paragraphs of murder, the nightclub flirter
This is Nas, kid, you know how it runs
I'm waving automatic guns at nuns
Sticking up the preachers in the church, I'm a stone crook
Serial killer, who works by the phone book
For you I got a lot to shoot my songs in here
My rhymes are hotter than a prostitute with ghonnerea
On the mic I let vocabulary spill
(It's like that y'all) That y'all, kick em in the grill
[Chorus]
[Chubb Rock]
The Chubbsta breaks ?stabbabi? fakes, steady rate h
The panty mix the verse, looks to Serch, kick him in the grill again
Part 2, sequel of "The Dialect, The Derelect"
The murder licks, Vanilla kicks alive on the crucifix
Coming around the mountain, when he comes to sell more record bums
Digest the lyrics then you suck on some Tums
Crumbs with the energy from the lump sums
And lips to to the mixture to the friction and then you're
Hummmmmmming, the door rings, yo I'm coming
To a theater near you, get your popcorn and your brew
And a Guiness Stout, check the clout when I'm about
Cause YOU are a BLABBERMOUTH
A blabber, it gets no badder
Lyrics on a diet cause it gets no fatter
Like a Gewn to the Guthrien, jumping up on the scene
With the Serches with the verses
Word up, the illustrious
Rapper dapper sapper, you want us to sell out your wish
My lips have never touched the circumference of a spliff
And if you see some Coke or some spill
With some ill pill, yo kick me in the grill grill
[Chorus]
[MC Serch]
So here's a true and false, tell me if it's factable
You wanna kill the Klan, shoot the fans a tractor pull
Got crazy game, so no one can stop me
But ayo, I'm white, I guess my game is hockey
Or basketball, football, taking papes in poker
If honeydip got a moneyclip I'm gonna stroke her
Wait a minute, chill chill, can't swing
Cause my girl ain't my girl no more, now she got a ring
Respect my wisdom like I respect myself
To to G I'll put you in a tree like the Keebler elves
You couldn't be The Mack if you had the car, the hat, the hoe
And your shit would still be out the back like a patio
Cause I saw you eating pig knuckles, with Frankie Knuckles
In a bar called Chuckles wearing name plate belt buckles
Goddamn your life is flimsy
Gave you nuff respect, but gave it back cause I was stingy
So from the cons and pros to the pros and the cons
Call me a motherfucker I'll say "Yeah I fucked your moms"
Until she calls back I'm gonna chill
Peace to Red Hot Lover Tone, Chubb Rock, kick em in the grill

[MC Serch]
Once again, this is your brain
This is your brain on drugs [egg starts frying]
This is your brain on social narcotics
Any questions?
Do you sell drugs (No) Do you carry drugs? (Never did)
But you ain't talking about the drugs inserted in the crib
Of the mind of the youth, young and trying to adapt
To the circles and hurdles and the craps, it's on map
Get the backslap and the "Everything's all right" lecture
Then in school BAM! sit 'em right next to
Mister David Duke, triple K white Aryan
Who tells you pops told him that you were the lesser man
Because of drugs that were put into the books
By the crooks of culture, the truth has a mother's looks
Who blesses and loves every single day
Words from Papa triple K and 66 right way
Take the troops here Mr. "Only Way to Stop It"
I ain't checking for the crack, I'm worried about the social narcotics
This is my land (Nah, this is my land) [x8]
Grumble grumble growl, toss and tumble, ow
How's he living kid (Foul!)
Spoon-feeding is deceiving because I need a fork
And if white people are superior I was delivered by the stork
Taught me that I was superior
Others are inferior, but what's important is the interior
Goddamn it, don't blame it on Janet
The nation got rhythm, but the rhythm ain't good
Not in my neighborhood
But will that change the devilish global way of thinking?
Homeboy, as fast as the eye starts blinking
But I'm just one man, one man one sister one brother one cousin
That helps another, to change change a place and change a pace
So the rats don't win the rat race
Cause every time a clock goes "tick" anoter falls vic
To the social narcotic
This is my land (Nah, this is my land) [x8]
[Fatal]
Yo social narcotics, a dangerous way of life
Talk to the young which will now deal with strife
Parents teaching their kids to be racist
So they grow up tricking, show hate to some faces
Inside the effects get me real vexed
Seeing people trying to flex case they got a color complex
Innocent children I see stay addicted
Getting high off of hate, that's why pain stays inflicted
To another color, it's a black and white fight
In Fatal's sight, that's why I gotta enlight
The blind minds of those that fell in this harsh reality
A social abuse that attacks the mentality
Cause race against race only brings friction
Pain and infliction, cause that's the addiction
Those that fall victim walk around headless
Cause the drug that they took made them an addict to prejudice
This is my land (Nah, this is my land) [x8]
[MC Serch]
This land is your land, this land is my land
From the streets of Compton to the Brooklyn island
From my people in prison to the Red Fern projects
This land was made for you and me supposedly
You never taught me true history
We killed the Indians and showed it as a victory
Original man, pilgrims saw him as a caveman
Convert to a Christian or become a slaveman
Indian brought the corn and the bread and in return
We gave 'em muskets to the head? Damn
Right back to the have-nots
Now in '92, lowered to be mascots
The Redskins, the Indians, the Atlanta Braves
What if we called the team "The Atlanta Slaves?"
Brothers would have a field day
Don't you understand now we got to turn the right way?
Cause every time a clock goes "tick" anoter falls vic
To the social narcotic

Serch slut for the quick view, but then I come back to dick you
Down, down, down, get up
When will you learn that when you try to flip
First you have to learn the role, calm control
Then bust combust, explode, blow your load
But on yourself call for help? Who come for help on a crumb?
No one, nada, zero zilch
Try to see this, you'd better but on some stilts, son
Serch will find the one, but the one you found was me
Go plug the puffed head til it's all empty
Plenty plenty more when I come pull your card, what?
Good vibrations only when my dick is hard
So if your booty ass lyrics don't get to me, the stench will
Copy my shit like that, use a stencil
Potential, can't get a piece of this rock
When I go pop pop pop, Simon says "Stop"
Begin, begin, weak blends, weekends, the stunts in sequence
Can't find the move or the groove for the weekend
Scuds get drop and Serch stops all the madness
Yeah right, like you was ever gonna have this
Nonsense, square the sense and add a comma
Begin with a coma, look what I've shown ya
Ain't no use, so don't try and play cool, bitch
Stomp out the kids in blue jeans and Goose Woolridge
Bitch is a duck with six feet at all ends
And on your deathbed your girl's fucking your best friend
Show signs the time troop dismiss the her
Cause when the bitch plays softball, she gots to go
So don't try to chuck, you get the knuckle for the peeping
My crew starts leaping with the groove for the weekend
Served in straight sets cause you rhyme like you got Torret's
gooo boy guaaaaahhh You're next!
Complex diagrams of rhymes to flex
A man go and use the cracks to sharpen the hex, sex
Still come back and get served in straight sets
Domes get sent to the pipe
Cause I'm the baddest white boy to ever fucking touch a mic
Like it or not, I don't care about the Hammer
But he'd be my bitch if me and him was in the slammer
So, handle the Kibbles and Bits and rap starter kits
Get blown to bits for the weekend and that's it
That's all that's it for the weekend, that's it (what?)
That's all that's it for the weekend, that's it (what?)
That's all that's it for the weekend, that's it (what?)

[MC Serch]
Cast away all of your rhymes into a shredder
Got with my girl, the first day that I met her
Tip-toe, tip-toe, try to step light
And if you say I can't well then I might, be
all I can be without the army or the navy
cause aiyyo aiyyo I'm not with the service
Hurt us, no nada, nothin I'm too thick
Called you Jimmy cause you're actin like a prick
Goody goody two-shoes, here comes the good news
Serch went solo, so do me a favor would youse
come come come, and run out your drawers
Can you dig it? It just hit the stores
[Chorus]
Yeah, c'mon now.. come come now..
C'mon now.. can you dig it?
Uhh, c'mon now.. come come now..
C'mon now.. can you dig it?
[MC Serch]
I come from no rock, so open up your lids
All up and down your spine I'll send the shivs
BLBLALBALBALBALRR! It's gettin mighty nippy
Nipsey Russell I remember sellin Jiffy
Hit me two times (*beat*) then hit me two times more (*beat beat*)
Hey yo chill, what'dyou hit me for?
Oh yeah for the groove, but not the groovy train
I feel the vibes, but what does that pertain?
It's how I rock the hoodies with the hoods but I never did no hoodin
And saw "Gladiators" cause of my man, Cuba Gooding
Jr., Sr., Mister Mister Big
Shake a leg, break a leg but stay, hip to the jig
[Chorus]
Uhh, c'mon now.. come come now..
C'mon now.. can you dig it?
Uhh uhh, c'mon now.. come come now..
Yeah, c'mon now.. can you dig it?
[MC Serch]
I've seen times change, watchin the rhymes change
from good to bad to worse from worse to hearse
Why is it the hearse makes all the papes?
I know you're mad phony y'know like counterfeit tapes
Hit one, strip one, rip one to the bad boy and ya find
there ain't nothin there no more
You're blowin smoke up, where there ain't no sunlight
And I don't need KFC to show me how it's done right
I rip mics I grab mics I wreck mics until I'm hoarse
And when I can't rhyme I'll go home and read The Source
Peace to the streets the thugs the vandals and the hoods
You dig it, you dig it, you dug it? Good
[Chorus]
Then c'mon now.. come come now..
You've got to c'mon now.. can you dig it?
C'mon now.. come come now..
C'mon now uhh.. can you dig it?
[MC Serch]
Diggin the vibe cause the vibe is what I'm diggerin
Triggerin samples bigger sounds Serch must begin again
Did what I had to dig, a tractor-trailer and a rig
cannot get this big; your voice is foul - stop smokin cigs
And put your life back in order
Met Chantelle at Taco Bell and made a, run for the border
Saw all the dust and ma and pa doowops is who I trust
And some old school kid tried to come back but his lyrics were all rust
and mustard ketchup, sauerkraut and relish
Sell this crap I like to rap but hey yo that's my fetish
Kick the smoooooth style - I hope that y'all can get it
And if you don't you dig it you got it come on and kick it
[Chorus]
C'mon now.. come come now..
C'mon now.. can you dig it?
C'mon now.. come come now..
C'mon now.. can you dig it?
I'm hip to the dig, I'm hip to the dig
I'm hip to the dig, I'm hip to the dig
I'm hip to the dig, I'm hip to the dig
I'm hip to the dig..