Check the Rhime - A Tribe Called Quest

Uh, uh, uh, uh

Uh, uh, uh, check the rhyme

Back in the days on the boulevard of Linden

We used to kick routines and the presence was fittin'

It was I, The Abstract

And me, the Five Footer

I kicks the mad style so step off the frankfurter

Yo, Phife, you remember that routine

That we used to make spiffy like Mr. Clean?

Um… um… a tidbit, um… a smidgen

I don’t get the message so you gots to run the pigeon

Heh, okay, you on point, Phife?

All the time, Tip

You on point, Phife?

All the time, Tip

You on point, Phife?

All the time, Tip

Well, then grab the microphone and let your words rip

Now here’s a funky introduction of how nice I am

Tell your mother, tell your father, send a telegram

I’m like an energizer 'cause, you see, I last long

My crew is never ever wack because we stand strong

Now if you say my style is wack, that’s where you’re dead wrong

I slayed that Buddy in El Segundo then Push it Along

You’d be a fool to reply that Phife is not the man

'Cause you know and I know that you know who I am

A special shout of peace goes out to all my pals, you see

And a middle finger goes for all you punk MC’s

'Cause I love it when you wack MC’s despise me

They get vexed, I roll next, can’t none contest me

I’m just a fly MC who’s five foot three and very brave

On top remaining, no home training 'cause I misbehave

I come correct in full effect have all my hoes in check

And before I get the butt, the Jim must be erect

You see, my aura’s positive, I don’t promote no junk

See, I’m far from a bully and I ain’t a punk

Extremity in rhythm, yeah, that’s what you heard

So just clean out your ears and just check the word

Check the rhyme y’all, check the rhyme y’all

Check the rhyme y’all, check the rhyme y’all

Check the rhyme y’all, check the rhyme y’all

Check it out, check it out

Check the rhyme y’all, check the rhyme y’all

Check the rhyme y’all, play tapes y’all

Check the rhyme y’all, check the rhyme y’all

Check it out, check it out

Back in the days on the boulevard of Linden

We used to kick routines and the presence was fittin'

It was I, the Phifer And me, the Abstract

The rhymes were so rumpin' that the brothers rode the 'zack

Aiyo Tip, do you recall when we used to rock What?

Those fly routines on your cousin’s block?

Um, let me see… damn, I can’t remember

I receive the message and you will play the sender

You on point Tip?

All the time, Phife

You on point Tip?

Yeah, all the time, Phife

You on point Tip?

Yo, all the time, Phife

So play the resurrector and give the dead some life

Okay, if knowledge is the key then just show me the lock

Got the scrawny legs but I move just like Lou Brock

With speed, I’m agile plus I’m worth your while

One hundred percent intelligent black child

My optic presentation sizzles the retina

How far must you go to gain respect?

Umm…

Well, it’s kinda simple, just remain your own

Or you’ll be crazy, sad and alone

Industry rule number four-thousand-and-eighty;

Record company people are shady

So kids, watch your back 'cause I think they smoke crack

I don’t doubt it, look at how they act

Well, off to better things like a hip-hop forum

Pass me the rock and I’ll score 'em with decorum

And proper—what you say, Hammer?

Proper

Rap is not pop, if you call it that then stop

NC, y’all check the rhyme y’all

SC, y’all check it out y’all

Virginia, check the rhyme y’all

Check it out, check it out

In London, check the rhyme, y’all