Archive for the ‘Q’ Category

Basslines affect me when my rhymes direct me
Forgive the crowds O Lord they know not why they sweat me
Biting’s against the law in the place that I live
So I lock up the door with the keys to my crib
The call me the high priestess of this hasta
Although I’m not a dread and not a rasta
There’s never been a word I can’t master
I’ve always been a piddly pastor
I reign the lesson of today
You have to listen to each and every single word I have to say
Because the Ruler Lord Ramsey is on my side
And I’m the princess of the posse, so yo, take it light

The Princess of the Posse, me say she a cool one
She rhyme on my record and she ram jam me gun
The Princess of the Posse, me say she a cool girl
She rhyme Brooklyn, the Bronx, USA, the world

You try to dissect my rhymes to see if there’s a pattern
I bounced it all around you like the rings around Saturn
Let me know now if you’d like to protest
And proceeding a greeting, or would you rather progress
Onto a higher plateau, to the peak and I’m taking it slow
Enough for you to see the knowledge and to know
I’m the Q-U-E-E-N, L-A-T-I-F-A-H
Queen of the Army Posse, the DLA which is
Get live alright, you standing there chewing on your fingernails
Nervous, watching me doing the live thing
Singing like a bird sing, ringing like the phone ring
I’m the Queen and you’re the underling
I’m never following, I follow nothing
The princess of the posse is a cool one

The Princess of the Posse, me say she a cool one
She rhyme on my record and she ram jam me gun
The Princess of the Posse, me say she a cool girl
She rhyme Brooklyn, the Bronx, USA, the world

I’m the queen of the clan, with a mic in my hand
I step over suckers to position myself to rule this land
It’s a concoction, for my ability
To show the skeezers the meaning of humility
Cause they don’t know I’m the one to fly one or two
I’m snatching hearts cause I’m Latifah and I want to
I find it necessary to tell you to get off my tip
I’m kicking gold, so grab a hoe and get a good grip
Stop the lying, the trying
The time buying, you’ve been denying
You’re dependent on me, the princess of the posse
I got the cards, so I’m dealing a death blow
You’re taking no crowns, put that on cease
My DJ’s name is Mark the 45 King to the posse
Peace, got to let you know where I come from
The princess of the posse is a cool one

The Princess of the Posse, me say she a cool one
She rhyme on my record and she ram jam me gun
The Princess of the Posse, me say she a cool girl
She rhyme Brooklyn, the Bronx, USA, the world

Now take run the family
Me say me have to do it for the R.E. posse
You try to be down, you can’t take the crown
Maybe from someone else but not me (Repeat 2x)

Now once upon a time - an old man told me a fable
When the piper is gone
And the soup is cold on your table
And if the black crow flies
To find a new destination
That is the sign
Come tonight
Come to the ogre sight
Come to ogre battle fight

He gives a great big cry
And he can swallow up the ocean
With a mighty tongue he catches flies
The palm of his hand incredible size
One great big eye
Has a focus in your direction
Now the battle is on
Yeah, yeah, yeah come tonight
Come to the ogre sight

Come to ogre battle fight

The ogre men are still inside
The two way mirror mountain
Gotta keep down right out of sight
You can’t see in but they can see out
“Keep a look out”
The ogre men are coming out
From the two way mirror mountain
They’re running up behind
And they’re coming all about
Can’t go east ‘cos you gotta go south

Ogre men are going home
And the great big fight is over
Bugle blow, let trumpet cry
Ogre battle lives on for evermore
You can come along
You can come along
Come to ogre battle

If you’re feeling tired and only
Uninspired and lonely
If you’re thinking
How the days seem long
All you’re given
Is what you’ve been given
A thousand times before

Just more more
More of that jazz
More
No more of that jazz
Gimme no more
No more of that jazz

Only football
Gives us thrills
Rock and roll just
Pays the bills
Only our team
Is the real team

Bring out the dogs
Get on your feet
Lie on the floor
Kinda think I’ve heard that line before

Just more
More of that jazz
More
No more of that jazz
Gimme no more
No more of that jazz

Oh no matter
Fool got no business hanging round and tellin’ lies
Bicycle races are coming your way
If you can’t beat ‘em join ‘em
Fun it
Oh you gonna let it all hang out
Fat bottomed girls you make the rocking world go round

No more, no more, no more of that jazz