What kind of love have you got?
You should be home but you’re not
A room full of noise and dangerous boys
still makes you thirsty and hot
I heard about you and that man
There’s just one thing I don’t understand
You say he’s a liar and he put out
your fire
How come you still got his gun in your hand?
Victim of love I see a broken heart
You got your stories to tell
Victim of love it’s such an easy part
and you know how to play it so well

Some people never come clean
I think you know what I mean
You’re walkin’ the wire, pain and desire
Looking for love in between

Tell me your secrets, I’ll tell you mine
This ain’t no time to be cool
And tell all your girlfriends,
you “been around the world” friends
that talk is for losers and fools

Victim of love, I see a broken heart
I could be wrong, but I’m no
Victim of love, we’re not so far apart
Show me, what kind of love have you got?

Victim of love, you’re just a victim of love
I could be wrong , but I’m not
Victim of love, now you’re a victim of love
What kind of love have you got?
What kind of love have you got?
What kind of love have you got?

(Delbert McClinton)

It’s 6:05am on Sunday mornin’
And I was supposed to’ve left for Memphis late last night
But I stopped at one of them old highway places
And ’cause I did I’ll sleep in Tarren County Jail tonight

Well I started out tonight with good intentions
But I ended up gettin’ sidways drinkin’ wine
Well the last thing I remember we was rollin’
And something hit my head and knocked me from my conscious mind

And I’m a victim of life’s circumstances
Well I was raised around bar rooms and Friday night dances
Singin’ them old country songs
And half the time ending up some place I don’t belong

I said, “Jailor, hey, what y’all got me charged with?”
Well he looked at me and halfway closed one eye
Well he said, “To mean to say you don’t remember Cuttin’ up some fool with that bone handled knife?”

And I’m a victim of life’s circumstances
Well I was raised around bar rooms and Friday night dances
Singin’ them old country songs
And half the time ending up some place I don’t belong
And I’m a victim of life’s circumstances
Well I was raised around bar rooms and Friday night dances
Singin’ them old country songs
And half the time ending up some place I don’t belong

Here I am, once again
This time, babe, I’m gonna do it right
Mind’s made up, heart is set
Ain’t no way I’m gonna compromise

Something happened, Hollywood skies
I was mesmerized
Suits and ties with platinum eyes
Cold cash junkies got the best of me

Victim of circumstance

Got myself back together
Learned my lesson well
I had to put up a fight, to make it right
Freedom’s ringing like the sound of a bell

Victim of circumstance

One more thing I want to say to you
Before you go away
Don’t you let ’em, know!
Don’t you let ’em, know!

A simple system,
mind control
losing your soul in this fight that you started
now you’re left broken hearted
shot down off a cloud for being so dumb
you do everything you could for just a little more fun.

But now consequence is coming
no use to start your running
you’re a ship out to see and
I’m a storm cloud forming.

Oh my God what have I done
please forgive me
I feel so hated
so aggravated
so frustrated
can’t explain it the way that I feel
I feel so numb
preferred to run then face the fact
stabbed your back
I’m a victim slipping through the system.

Listen to me real slow
I know that you’re just dying
to know the wrong direction
where ever you were trying to go
the intersection I met you at a quarter to one
to listen to what you like doing for fun.

You had to learn the hard way and I taught you,
you had to take the long road
I never did but I’m all numb preferred to run the face the fact,
I stabbed your back
I understand that did not deserve
that you can’t go back can’t you see it
God what have I done please forgive me…

Spinnin? those curlers round all day
Her little beauty shop provides a way
To work at home and sleep in late
So she can dance the night away

Pilot gotta fly—eagle gotta soar
Give a baby candy—gotta give it more
Cowboy gotta ride—gambler gotta chance
Vickie Vance gotta dance—Vickie Vance gotta dance

She can be dancin? to nothin? at all
And she does a mean swing with the shadows on the wall
Yeah and I bet she?s done the two step a million times
Yeah she drives all the boys on the dance floor wild

Pilot gotta fly—eagle gotta soar
Give a baby candy—gotta give it more
Cowboy gotta ride—gambler gotta chance
Vickie Vance gotta dance—Vickie Vance gotta dance

Oooh, she can?t stand still
Yeah, she?s dancin? off the wall
Dancin? on the window sill

“I’m of a mind 2 make some mookie, he he? phonebook”


The phone rings – it’s Vicki callin’
She wants me 2 come 2 the crib
U see, conversation’s better than being lonely
So I try my best 2 ad lib
I tell her the joke about the woman
Who asked her lover – “Why is your organ so small?”
He replied, “I didn’t know I was playin’ in a cathedral”
Vicki didn’t laugh at all


This is where she wants 2 be
And I am what she wants 2 see
I’ve never known a love so sweet
But still I keep Vicki waiting
Alright


All is well in Gotham City
The sound of terror is all U hear
Sometime a pistol take the place of her body
Sometimes her body’s here
U see, when crime is your only love
All that matters – the present, the here and now
People, people – whatever floats this Joker’s boat
Is whatever this Joker will bang


CHORUS:
This is where she wants 2 be (I?)
I am what she wants 2 see
Never known a love so sweet
Still I keep Vicki waiting


Oh yeah
Wait on, mama


Talk of children still frightens me
Is my character enough 2 be? (Never)
One that deserves a copy made? (Never, never)
This I one day, I hope 2 see
Until then she’s held at bay by my animal-like persistence
Or maybe she’s just 2 proud 2 say
That fate (fate) brought us 2gether
And this is where she wants 2 stay


CHORUS {x2}
(Oh)
(Oh yeah)
(Ah yeah, yeah, yeah)


All is well in Gotham Town (This is where she wants 2 be)
I am what she wants 2 see
I’ve never known a love so sweet
But still I keep Vicki?
Still I keep Vicki?
Still I keep Vicki waiting, oh yeah (Waiting)
Uh-huh, uh-huh
Still I keep Vicki?
Still I keep Vicki waiting


This is where she wants 2 be

You feel the knife stuck in your back
You feel it twist and you hear it crack
Can’t make a sound for the sudden pain
You wish your blood were Novocaine

You see the smoke and you feel the flak
You’re burning up and you’re turning black
They say you fell and you hit your head
Your other bun is Whitenbread

Vicious rumours, paranoic fears
Sonic boomers ringing in your ears
All of this is getting normal now
You’ll never go back to your farming plough
Vicious rumours

You’re right at home back at William’s flat
You heard a sound you turned and shot your cat
Your hands are shaking, everybody sees
And there’s a rhythm drumming in your knees

You return into a foreign night
Inside you know something is just not right
Sometimes you duck when you see your pet
Canary turned into a Sabre jet

Shocked consumer – you’re just an average guy
Swelling tumor pushing on your eye
And now you know why all the headaches come
And why you’re getting progressively numb
Vicious rumours

I’ve been denied, debriefed, detuned
Sometimes I howl right at the moon
My family treats me gradually
They know my volatility

Vicious rumours, paranoic fears
Sonic boomers ringing in your ears
And now I know why all the headaches come
And why you’re getting progressively numb
Vicious rumours

(Vicious rumours)
(Vicious rumours)
(Vicious rumours)
(Vicious rumours)
(Vicious rumours)
(Vicious rumours)
(Vicious rumours)
(Vicious rumours)

[Fade into..]

Who do you think we are
Who do you think we are
Who do you think we are
Who do you think we are
Who do you think we are
We don’t care
We don’t care

You never listen you never know
never the lender you always follow
cause it’s you doing it you say it’s alright
to yourself you’re lying
I didn’t wanna see you dying
before you know it you’re all alone
your can is empty you feel such sorrow
you think that using
all your best friends is alright
to yourself you’re lyin’
can’t you see it can’t you feel that
your vices are ruining your life and on and on,
your vices are ruining your life your mind
your vices are ruining your life
why can’t you stop that vice from ending your life
you’re always missing you’re always slow
used to be so deep now you’re so shallow
another friend out there
no I don’t think it’s right
your soul is frying
can’t you hear your mother crying
take your medicine
thru your nose
fine today but what about tomorrow
say it does not control you
but think I might
you’ve hit rock bottom
can’t you use it can’t you see that
you’re telling lies
and for help you are crying
I keep on knocking but there’s nobody home
you’re telling lies, living high, now you’re dying
if you want somebody’s help
why don’t you answer the door.

Verse One: Treach

Hey boo!
Yeah did you remember the tip of tender fender bender
from last September you let me enter the center
so we went through the Winter?
Then we had a little prob, now we let it solve
Now you think that you get robbed, if you’re givin bod
Well I’m stickin to the kitten cause it’s hittin
the only way I be splittin if you pick it for money and trick it
You wanna dip, this is the brick you pick
So you ain’t dismissed until both sets of lips kiss
It’s the mother number one the phunky Phillified
The chilly side, Boyz II Men and women with the illy vibe
So until it’s 9090
Just vibe with me and smile like your, wife behind me

Too high to get over (yeah yeah)
Too low to get under (yeah yeah)
Too high to get over (yeah yeah)
Too low to get under…
…army with harmony

Chorus: Boyz II Men

We’re just, vibin
Groovin, vibin
We’re just, vibin
Groovin, vibin

Verse Two: Craig Mack (Puff Daddy in the background)

[That’s right]
Just move it on down
And you came to feel the flav [Bad Boy, Bad Boy]
Haa! We just vibe to the beat [That’s right]
The Mackalicious funk flav [Gotta get the cash]
Ah one two y’all! [Gotta get, gotta get the dough]

Craig Mack’s got a lot in store for MC’s so please listen
Fake rappers stop booin and hissin
My shit’s the bomb, like nitroglycerin
Electrifying, if I said I wasn’t I’d be lying
On the fader, from here to Grenada
Dope demonstrater creator of the force like hey Darth Vader
You imitator, I’m greater than your data
MC’s run up so then they pack this doggie bag for later
I’m the, wisdom-mystical
Hyper-scientifical
Do your typical write rhymes get loaded take a miracle
to lyrical whip, the word dick on the side tip
Rhymes to flip, Hercules ain’t got a tighter grip
Whoever said that you couldn’t be beat? Well have a seat
Grab a spoon, taste some defeat
I shake MC’s down directly to the ground
Boyz II Men make the world go round

Chorus 2X

Verse Three: Busta Rhymes

How ya feel?
Party people, how ya feel?
Let me know if everything remains real!
Word up! Tell me how ya feel!
I feel good tonight, talk to me tell me how do ya feel
so that everything’s alright
Word is bond! Busta Rhymes keep it comin one time for your mind
Flip Mode y’all, yo

WHOOOO! That music feel my cool breeze
Make you bang your head from hear to overseas, now!
You feel the charge that we be generatin, conversatin
Always get taken by vibes that be penetratin
I make you feel the sensation like we come into
the last days of Revelation, sometimes that’s how we be vibin
Yes I’m gonna keep you smilin
Hit you then I take you on a ride just like Coney Island
One two three it’s simply you and me
While you listen I MC
Blow your mind and make you really want to par-ty
Ohh ohh! Take those bars and keep em swingin
Ohh! Sometimes it makes me want to start singin
But I keep on bringing …
… and swinging you better believe I keep your bells ringing
Feel the motion and the magic potion while we in the dancehall
With Boyz II Men we bring the universal vibe y’all!

Chorus 2X

Bring the universal vibe y’all
One time, Flip Mode is forever
Y’all get down and feel my thing
Guaranteed to make your fat butt swing
One time while I get on

Verse Four: Method Man

Here come that real rap shit
Criminology, yeah

I mentally stab your brain with the pain
While other brothers spit mad game I spit flames
You know my fuckin name, write joints with Mary J.
Johnny Blaze get methed right because it pays
Life insurance indeed as we proceed
To give the track menstraul cramps until it bleeds
Who the bad guy? It’s I, the chinky eye
Knotty-head

Q-Tip:

Let me flaunt the style (style), I think that the time’s near
That we drop studs (studs), there will be no duds here
Rappers play the dumb (dumb), kinda on the space tip
But when they hear the jams (jams), they be on the dilsnick
Now I’m not for the rock (rock), I know the territory
Go ahead and try (try), that’s a different story
Similar to Grimm (Grimm), I could write a better one
All about a kid (kid), who couldn’t rap and didn’t run
Stand (stand) aside (aside), when the rap is gettin dumb
Resort to baggin Billy (Billy), askin can he have some
No, never ever (ever) come back and try again man
If you come back (back), I’ll be the first to shake your hand
Competitions good (good), it brings out the vital parts
The Abstract Poetic (‘etic), majors in recital arts
Do it for the kids (kids), the elders and the rap peers
When the job is done (done), then we hear a lot of cheers
Gotta feel the vibes (vibes), come from my creation
If the hands clap (clap) are filled with elation
Here I am ghetto, full with a lot of steam
Think I gotta, I think I gotta, I think I gotta scream (scream)
Cuz that’s how good it feels child
Let your hair down (down), so we can get buckwild
Do your ill dance (dance), don’t think about the next man
We must have unity and think of the bigger plan
The vision, we fall (fall) we must stick together, see
I’d like to take this time (time) to say what’s up to Kool G
The name is Q-Tip (Tip), The Midnight Marauder
Give enough respect (‘spect) to Afrika Bambaataa
As a man in the world (world), I must do my job
Take care of Mama Duke (Duke), I won’t resort to rob
Bob you’ll get your dough (dough), Mase is my witness
Obsessed with the rap (rap), for its the mental fitness
Like shootin cee-lo (lo), and always gettin headcracks
The industry is luck (luck), winning with the fake raps
Peace to the crews (crews), who pump the real hip hop
Not sellin out (out) from hardrock to disc jock…
(From disc jock to hardrock, from hardrock to disc jock)

Phife:

I don’t know what to say, but here I go freak it
If the papes come, then you know I’ll seek it
I’m just a short brotha, dark skin face
Weigh a buck-fifty, 36 waist
My hair is crazy curly
Front like Mr. Furley
To this day, I still believe that no MC can serve me
Brothas try to front, but everybody know (know)
I get more props than the Arsenio Hall Show
Party animal I was, but now I chill at home
All I do is write rhymes, eat, drink, shit and bone
Found my thrill in Amityville, I’m always in the Island
Fudge and Monkey know the time, they know who keeps ’em smilin
Go out on my own, somethin that I gotta do
Do what the hell I want and have no one to listen to
I’m prompt with my business and I do things on the double
Yo, I’m out like Buster Douglass, I say peace to MC Trouble
Rest in Peace

Q-Tip:

Word Up, rest in Peace, and you know what else?
We got, we got, we got the vibe (vibe)
All the people in Long Island, we got the vibe (vibe)
Brooklyn and Queens, we got the vibe (vibe)
Uptown and New York, we got the vibe (vibe)
People upstate, we got the vibe (vibe)
If you’re in DC, you got the vibe (vibe)
Maryland, Virginia, Carolina vibe (vibe)
Out West, we got the vibe (vibe)
In the Bahamas, we got the vibe (vibe)
Over in Europe, you know what? We got the vibe
And we gotta keep it alive, it goes on…

Of rap I’m a fan, I’ve seen a whole lot of subs
Goods with the girls, I got a whole lot of ’em
From fat to skinny, Freeda to Winnie (Winnie)
Emma to Cindy, Constance to Wendy (Wendy)
Cuz I be more friendly (friendly), never on the snotty side
I don’t brag to brothas about the little papes I got (got)
My vocal styles can vary, the sight is never scary (sca