Intro: Kamaal (Q-Tip)
  
   Phony rappers who do not write
   Phony rappers who do not excite
   Phony rappers, check it out, aight
  
   Verse One: Kamaal (Q-Tip)
  
   Yo, I was riding the train
   And this Puerto Rican kid said simple and plain
   Let's battle
   It kinda took me by surprised
   Cuz the brother was moving wit his eyes on the prize
   I said screw it, I ain't got nuttin to lose but um
   But I got to do this shit real quick so um
   Hurry up kid, bust your joints and then I'll bust mine
   And I be out cuz I got to see this hottie, he said ok
   Now check it, check it out, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, that's what he said
   Then I came back and just fucked up his head
   Cuz yo, he thought an MC who was seen on TV
   Couldn't hold the shit down in New York City
   Aiyyo, I showed his ass, then I went off on my task
   To bless her ass Uptown, real MC's will hold it down
   Yea, yea, sonny, to the beat like that
   You wanna bring it to me, where you at
  
   Verse Two: Phife Dawg
  
   Yes, dread, I had a similiar situation
   When this kid tried to tell me I didn't deserve my occupation
   He said I wasn't shit that I was soon to fall
   I looked him up and down, grab my crotch and said balls
   Of course he tried to bring it on the battling tip
   Ay, you know me, you know I had to come out my shit
   Trying to lounge at the mall, meet Skef and Mr Walton
   Finally I banged his ass wit the verbal assault
   He said a rhyme about his .45 and his nickelbags of weed
   That's when I preceeded to give him what he needed
   Talking 'bout I need a Phillie right before I get loose
   Poor excuse, money please, i get loose off of orange juice
   Preferly Minute Maid cuz that's exactly what it takes
   To write a rhyme, huh, to school your nickels and your dimes
   Because an MC like me be on TV
   Don't mean I can't hold my shit down in NYC
  
   Phony rappers who do not write
   Phony rappers who do not excite
   Phony rappers, you know they type
   Phony rappers, check it
  
   Verse Three: Phife, Consequence
  
   It seems there's a sanitation, y'all full of thrash talker
   Sounding good but money can you feed the dog hawker
   Talking 'bout your mic days and your breakdancing
   Not enhancing, you sound tired
   Oh, shit, I didn't know you like to play yourself in front'cha friends
   Sitting there, lying to no end
   MC's for me make things happening
   Talk about a world but in a form of rapping
   Who will be the captain of this ship
   If it goes down, don't you know you have to go wit it
   Just because you rhyme for a couple of weeks
   Doesn't mean that you've reach the MC's peak
   Let me stop sounding all bitter
   Ghetto child, never be a quitter
   But don't be a phony in the litter
   Take it as a letter from the better
   Take it from a man who used to rhyme in busted ass jetta's
  
   C: Yo, Phife, you need a condom
   P: Word to God, mess around
   I catch Aids from Mc's being on my nuts too hard
   C: Cuz on my blvd you better bring your bodyguard
   P: And what's your blvd
   C: LP, I represent naturally
   P: So don't step on the rolly if you know that you're phony
   Or else I bend that ass like elbow macaroni
   Cuz I gotta keep it real (gotta keep it real)
   A Tribe Called Quest, you see we never half step
   C: (So on your mark) get ready, MC's be jetti
   Me and Phifey be on ya like Veronica and Betty
   Archie, Jughead, snuffing Mc's
   From Brainslane down to Hempstead
   P: Yes 'Quence, see over
   His rhyme style is older that a Chrysler car Nova
   I'm wilder then the cats from Arizona
   Villanova, un, un, Kentucky
   Whos' the next MC stepping up to try and bust me
   Bring him here and boy, will I ever let him have it
   C: And when it comes to the microphone, don't even try to grab it
   What?