I was a teenager
Before I had status and before
I had a pager
You could find the Abstract
listening to hip hop
My pops used to say,
it reminded him of be-bop
I I said, "Well daddy don't
you know that things go in cycles
The way that Bobby Brown is just
ampin' like Michael"
Its all expected, things are for the looking
If you got the money,
Quest is for the booking
Come on everybody,
let's get with the fly modes
Still got room on the truck,
load the back boom
Listen to the rhymes,
to get a mental picture
Of this black man, black woman venture
Why do I say that? 'Cause
I gotta speak the truth man
Doing what we feel for the
music is the proof and
Planted on the ground,
the act is so together
Bona fide strong,
you need leverage to sever
The unit, yes, the unit,
yes, the unit called the jazz is
We deliver it each year on the street
for the beat 'cause
You can find it on the rack
in your record store(store)
If you get the record, then your thoughts are
adored and appreciated
'Cause we're ever so glad we made it
We work hard, so we gotta thank God
Dishing out the plastic,
do the dance till you spastic
If you diss, it gets drastic
Listen to the rhymes,
'cause its time to make gravy
If it moves your booty,
then shake, shake it baby
All the way to Africa a.K.a.
The Motherland (uh)
Stick out the left,
then I'll ask for the other hand
That's the right hand,
Black Man (man)
Only if you was noted as my man (man)
If I get the credit, then I'll think I deserve it
If you fake moves,
don't fix your mouth to word it
Get in the zone of positivity,
not negativity
'Cause we gotta strive for longevity
If you botch up, what's
in that (what?)
A pair of Nikes, size ten-and-a-half (come on,
on, come on)
We gotta make moves
Never, ever, ever could we fake
moves (come on, come on)
We gotta make moves
Never, ever, ever could we fake moves (come on,
come on)
We gotta make moves
Never, ever, ever could we fake
moves (come on, come on)
We gotta make moves
Never, ever,
ever could we fake moves (come on,
come on) You gotta be a winner all the time
Can't fall prey to a hip hop crime
With the dope raps and dope
tracks for you for blocks
From the fly girlies to the
hardest of the rocks
Musically, the Quest, is on the rise
We on these Excursions so you
must realize
Hip hop continually, about the Zulu
If you don't like it, get
off the Zulu tip
So what can you do in the
times which exist?
You can't fake moves on your
brother or your sis
But if your sis is a
(bitch), brother is a jerk
Leave 'em both alone and continue
with your work
Whatever it may be into
this society
Everything is fair,
at least that how it seems to me
You must be honest and
true to the next
Don't be phony and expect
one not to flex
Especially if you rhyme,
you have to live by the pen
Your man is your man,
then treat him like your friend
All it is, is the code of the streets
So listen to the knowledge being
dropped over beats
Beats that are hard,
beats that are funky
It could get you hooked like
a crackhead junkie
What you gotta do to is know that
the Tribe's in this sphere
The Abstract Poet,
prominent like Shakespeare
make moves
Never, ever, ever could we fake moves (come on,
come on) We gotta make moves
Never, ever, ever could we fake
moves (come on, come on)
Time is running out on black
power advocates
in the day (excursions, excursions)
And white thighed supporters at night
(excursions, excursions)
Every time you see them, they're chas in' some
white woman (excursions, excursions)
With their tongue hangin' out
(excursions, excursions)
Time is running and passing,
passing and running (excursions, excursions)
Running and passing,
passing and running (excursions, excursions)
A Tribe Called Quest 
