B******t

Yeah, yeah

Thank you, thank you

Thank you, thank you

Yeah, yeah

Thank you, thank you

Thank you, thank you

No applause, please, no applause

Whatever

You know

You know

You know what time is this

You know

You know

You know what

You know what time is this

You gotta get on up off of that bullshit

Stop fighting that feeling

You gotta get on up off of that bullshit

Stop fighting that feeling

You gotta get on up off of that bullshit

Stop fighting that feeling

You gotta get on up off of that bullshit

Stop fighting that feeling

Let me

Entertain you

And interphase you

With the new sound

Sound is the cyde

And the phar is the cyde

No matter who you are

You know you can't hide

Not from the eyes of the sun

Nor the moon

Nor the stars

No matter who you are

Come in

And commence to the sound of my drummin'

You need to get on up off of that shit

Stop fighting that feeling

You need to get on up off of that shit

Stop fighting that feeling

You need to get on up off of that shit

Stop fighting that feeling

You need to get on up off of that shit

Stop fighting that feeling

Time to go all the way with it

Don't just sit there

And stare or play with it

'Cause we're committed to the seeds of the new breeds

The mothership of dreams where fiends breast feeds

Step through reality into reality

So surreal you feel you never knew reality

Until it stood still

Now you're far from a lie

When the truth tantalizes your eyes

See we already in the skies

Or outer space

Standing here on the face of this earth

To the state to the grid of my turf

Where my mom gave birth

To all that she loves be it small to others

But yo it's bigger than love

They did a cross examination of it

But you can't duplicate the state of our relations

Through translations

That's not the ticket

Breaking code in hieroglyphics

Trying to get down to the specifics

You need to get on up off of that shit

Stop fighting that feeling

You need to get on up off of that shit

Stop fighting that feeling

You need to get on up off of that shit

Stop fighting that feeling

You need to get on up off of that shit

Stop fighting that feeling

Come on baby baby

Come on baby baby

Come on

Yo

When money talks

Fools are always checkin'

Depositing their two cents

Foolishly convinced blinded by their ignorance

That becomes a hinderance for them to rise

When they going to recognise

Time waits for no man

When you going to stand and

Get up off of that bullshit

Stop fighting that feeling

Yo yo

Now let me change the topic

Just a bit

Talk about that ips

With the fat ass and tits

Comin' to the club

Lookin' for a star

Ain't got ten dollar for a drink at the bar

Scoping around

Looking for the best dressed

Smelling for the indo passing up the stress

Sniff sniff

Yo what does the ips smell?

A brother like Suave with a pocket that swell

Action was thrown

The ip was blown

Next thing you know I had her at my home

All alone object to get paid

The only thing that happened was her ass got laid

Now no ends

And her ass was sprung

Used a little tongue

But believe I'm well hung

So lesson well learned for you club hopping hoes

It ain't about the stardom

And it ain't about the dough so

Get on up off of that bullshit

Stop fighting that feeling

You gotta get on up off of that bullshit

Stop fighting that feeling

You gotta get on up off of that bullshit

Stop fighting that feeling

You gotta get on up off of that bullshit

Stop fighting that feeling

You gotta get on up off of that bullshit

Stop fighting that feeling

You gotta get on up off of that bullshit

Stop fighting that feeling

You gotta get on up off of that bullshit

Stop fighting that feeling