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For Pete's Sake

Here come's the rugged one plus the way I flip it

I collect the loot and then I knock the boots

A smooth dark lover prefer to be called the chocolate lover

'Cause I can do wonders under cover

I'm dip dip dope I rhyme like riz ope

I cleanse like soap 'cause it's the great black hope

Stay away from the penile I can rock the senile

Hons alway wave 'cause slick like bunile

Pete Rock on the boot knock, on the boot knock

Plus the way that I flow...blood clot

Mm-hmm, mm-hmm, yeah...

So funky, like a street junky

Like I said before, we go, c'mon...

For Pete's sake I break and update, wait, I radiate

The dub played to navigate the tune I make

I fit like a slipper, so catch the Big Dipper

Vital signs are quicker, not the flat line picture

Showtime original, official with the smooth criminal

I hit the cliches on the subliminal

With the soul technician to fill the prescription

In addition listen close to the mission

The P.E.T.E.R.O.C.K., resume

With the route to Brut by Faberge

No doubt, to shout about a 20-bar segment

Off spring the lyrics when the microphone's pregnant

Give it a rubdown, now here's the sermon

Everywhere you go you hear Mecca from the Vernon

Pound for pound, uptown, I get down

And bound to spin the record like a merry-go-round

The cut don't flow that I touch is not a preemie

And who would ever see me when I dream of Jeanie

I don't think so, peace, I gotta go

And shake like an earthquake, cousin, for Pete's sake

To my man...

Here come's the rugged one, plus the way I flip it

I collect the loot and then I knock the boots

A smooth dark lover, prefer to be called the chocolate lover

'Cause I can do wonders under cover

I'm dip-dip-dope, I rhyme like riz-ope

I cleanse like soap, 'cause it's the great black hope

Stay away from the penile, I can rock the senile

Hons alway wave 'cause I'm slick like lunile

Pete Rock on the boot knock, on the boot knock

Plus the way that I flow...blood clot

Yo, my style's cock-diesel and I can do the hustle

Niggaz know the time, I don't have to flex a muscle

I'm not the type to fake it, I wouldn't try to take it

Tie your girl to the back of my Jeep butt-naked

Slide her monkey ass down the hill

So if you don't want beef, money, chill for Pete's sake

To my man...

Music please...

The Mecca's sweet like nectar, maybe 'cause you need it

There's a ribbon in the sky, but I wonder if you see it

In the days of thunder, notice how I simplex in the proper context

Here steps the one, the answer to the riddle

Survey says the black press can make you wiggle

The staff to the craft, the stroke of a pena

Pefect stranger, melody arranger

Loopholes are filled when I build with the skill

Liquid steels the mic on the Rock's chill

No financial aid wade when I'm paid

Deep as the Everglade, the escapade a renagade

Study in the archives, place your bet, sonny

Head crack back to back for the bail money

For you, a chapter, slayed by the author

Lickin' on your daughter, say, south of the border

Now, here we are with the funky repertoire

Draw warm like a spa, star, forget all the hoopla

C.L. Smooth and Pete Rock

Could break and penetrate, piece of cake, cousin, for Pete's sake

To my man...

For Pete's Sake, c'mon...

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written by COREY PENN / PETE PHILLIPS

Lyrics © Royalty Network, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group

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