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De La Soul Is DeadAfro Connections at a Hi 5 (in the eyes of the hooThis is dedicated to all those hardcore acts.Yeah, you know them brothers that we used toLook up to, that fell the fuck off.And now they doing all that R'n'B sh..(crocker!)You mean Rhthym and Blues?No! Rappin' Bullsh...Connection A, click, what?My dick, chickI smack a fish if you thinksMy connection ain't thick, dickHeaded like a punk whipI travel miles with a rhythmic lipI rock an AfroIn '83, gee, yoAnd spray the sheen so I get a Soul GlowI play the corner toughAnd me and Mase pull puffs on a bluntGivin' high-five is what I wantSo I puff a blunt, I don't frontI get spliffed, get a stiffThen I go hump a stuntLike a pimp proLetras de canciones(Nah, man, a super ho)That's cool 'cause I'm still an Afro broYeah, I'm live for my life is hecticEvery hour, every minute, every secondI keep a level head and stay down to earth'Cause I've been an Afro since birthYeahNow I hold my crotch 'cause I'm top-notchI run amok Sasquatch, and I like to eat live crabI've got five beepers, you scabBut you can find me directly on the Ave(You niggas cheat me, well who's that!)My breath never smells wackI eat the watermelon Tic-TacBefore I kiss myself I always jump back(Yo, gee, this track is stack)(And you know that)I do three flipsWhen a punk flip on my duke liftsBut I flex more strength when I'm asleepOn the other side with his main tapesMake her dry her face, buy her gold earlocksBut I may, she flocks round me like a donutShe got sprinkles but I bite my way outMore brothers come about, try to scheme slickBut the Native Tongue's thickLick 'em real good, like a real hood shouldBut the fly tape let the car speakers shakeI ran a cop down, I smile a frown with a butShow gold teeth, 'cause I ain't a vegetarianNot scared of beef, sport a feather like ChiefGot a scribble pad, you can get these gonads'Cause I'm big-willed, blow off like a seal'Cause connection with the Afro is realI be the gift of gab, but be a bro with a dissBecause it's tough to bluff a cabNo wonder Melle Mel is 'Rrrr-RAH!'I play of tape of the son of La-di-daMy cousin Rilo sells blow, a G a dayKeeps his kids hooray, a size nine and halfI kicks my tricks, is to live for IslandI mug a mug vic, but I's cool, I selfWith the quickness I bust the true slangShow no pit to those who don't understandThe Maseo got tailed with the big bailI busted loose but now the blue goose is on my tailI seen the ghetto go lower than it is(He don't care, 'cause his nigga's selling crack to the kids)My jeans are brand new, with twelve moreIn the closet with my silk, and belowMy 45 pack thick, draw quickIf a nigga starts some shibidibiditMy crib is uptown, downtown, L.I.And another crib in QueensI munch some cornbread, Boar's HeadMy favorite porck chops andA plate of collar greensI chill with Shymel, Akeem, JaheedAnd the Rastafarians'll be the crown inAnd the PoppaBut the connections are still a high-five(Let's get busy) From Letras Mania