On and On - Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth

I am the one they call the G the R the A the P and

I didn’t write this it’s come off the top of the dome

So what’cha wanna do, and what’cha wanna go home

And tell, ya mama

That I’m one with all the mad drama

Yes I was causing, the movies on 125th St

I crossed over honey dip knew it was Harlem Week

I was going on the place to be

It’s me, the capital rapital G-R-A-P

In the place to be with my man Pete Rock &CL Smooth

Gots to bust the groove as the people begin to move

And get on the dance floor

Got to move the funky stinkin' little whores

And all the hoods, and all the punks, and all the suckers

What the fuck I got stupid motherfuckers

On my dick

What the fuck I rock the mic so quick

With Adolfo, in the place to be

And my man Ras is right in back of me

Rob-O good to go, I got to f-l-o-w and that spells flow

With Chris Ch&, and what’s up I’m bout to get &ed

On top of the mic, and I’mma set an exam-ple

Girls I pull, I got the honey dips so what’s up my tank is full

Of sperm, I’m ready to bust a nut

What’s up Pete Rock come get on the cut

Rock to beat, get wreck on the regular

Listen to me because I cause mass hysteria

Peace!

The nightcap was exiled, steadily profiled

As the underachievin non-believin can’t stand to reason

Where’s your daddy boy — to categorize the drinker

Misunderstood to make the ordeal linger

They label me a problem child who can’t cope

Hangin by a thread, yes a very thin rope

Inevitably, can never be the man can I tell ya

Visualize and memorize him in a cellar

Well tally-ho, pip-pip, my fam’s gonna catch a fit

My father lookin like he wanna bust my lip

But that was never good for my health

So I take the shovel out my pocket and dig myself

Now when I look at the man in the mirror

I see things much more clearer my Lord

I’m not that popular, less than a dollar

But the pengo I pack can make you holla

I said, what you don’t know could make a whole new world

Man… listen!

I’m set to sabotage premonition

Your propaganda, crooked type of version

Some of the things I bring, you’re babblin non-person

Imbedded in my character, rebel nostalgia

Uncommon valor who’d rather

Have no man-made religion or sect

But try to believe what you conceive may be half correct

I shed light, to show the path in sight

Cause a man who can’t treat you right can’t teach you right

In front of your eyes, what a surprise, and let the nature rise

Just for the girls and the guys

A Phi-Slamma-Jamma when you wear a bandanna

Peace to Pop Dukes, and long live Nana

The formula’s reality, Pete Rock’s the storm

Together, forever, yes G we got it goin on

Internal affairs, flippin Hollywood Squares

In search of the Mecca many travel in pairs

Off the slave ship to Sodom and Gomorrah

To support a short order when I freak it on a corner

Five-oh cruisin, decide to pull you over

Beefin, «Where's the Coke?"I said, «A six-pack of soda?»

The rookie’s lookin thirsty, but everything’s mental

A baseball bat, to smack Shirley in the Temple

Agreed to meet the maker so I yelled Hail Mary’s

And flew that head, to hit The House on the Prairie

But the past can never choose my future correctly

I found a greater source directly

On and on, keep it on, you chant the

Boppin simonized, pullin you clockwise jammie

To quickly skip the minimal tip, I dap for the wise I dip

Can anyone see, phenomenally, to the last degree?

I capitalize subliminally, wreck for positivity

Yes my little chickadee, ready to flow with me

Nevertheless I bless, follow me and see

Predominantly, CL’ll be, All in the Family

God bless Marky Black, know we go way back

The lyrics I pack is like a needle in the haystack

CL and Pete Rock, smooth like Dom Perignon

Never torn, word is bond, we got it goin on