To Whom It May Concern Lyrics

To Whom It May Concern lyrics

You know what?
Huh?
You know what?
What?
You know what?
You know
what?
The
Sugar D I C D A D I E
That's just a title, explaining who I
be
Mista L A W N G E
I take a sucker from any phil and injure thee
Now
that I've spelled it out
And you like the way it sounds
I'm dissing rap
music
and rap music on the grounds
You say I'm full of sheep
And for
that I give a pound
The Sugar Dick Daddy
Mista Lawnge to break it
down
Ladies, step to me for a real neat treat
And if you don't wanna call
me Lawnge
You can call me sweet meat
I wear protection, you won't catch
claps here
Come over later, but first go get a pap smear
Nine point five
okay dear?
And don't forget clean underwear
Cause I don't want the funk
to flow
After after I'm done, yo ya gotta go
'Don't you know ho, don-tcha
know ho'
Okay enough is enough, time to get that off my bladder
And dig
deep into the subject matter
You know what?
You know what?
I'm sick
and tired of rappers not real
And suckers makin' it with a pop
feel
Labels signin acts with nuff bills
Tax write off, cause you have no
skills
You go make a demo
get a deal and start to sprout
Gold,
platinum, and then start sellin out
You get a Benz and trash the
Nova
Double platinum, and start crossin over
Then you get fall, I won't
give examples
HINT HINT, they use the same old samples
But not the
Sheep
for we are sleek and unique
Top of the peek and others are
weak
Follow the words that I speak
The situation is bleak
But this is
the fly shit that you seek
When the style is dope
Mista Lawnge'sa
particapator
If you wanna battle, later
Cause Black Sheep are certified
greater than...
But, I said later man
'I can dig it'
You know
what?
You know what?
You know what?
You know what?
You know
what?
You know what?
You know what?
You know what?
I turn on the
radio
Be a prime time to a late night rap show
Here, the same old, same
old
And that's on your, new single
Your product, is a product, of no
productivity
Can ya, see G?
You kick a wack style
And claim to have
brains
Take the funky drummer and give him back to James
I'm dope, I'm
dope
Heh, I can't cope
Keep your cordless, cause you bore this
You say
you're sure, yeah
but I'm the surest
That, Black Sheep are unique
Funk
clever brothers that will
make the church girl freak
Out, without a
doubt
You have no wins in a '91 bout
So shout, pout,do what you
want
But you're out the picture
And I'ma get you sucka
Cause youse a
dumb mothafucka
Better off as a tractor trail trucker
But movin right
along to the Woodstock
Stop, remember when the band was on rock
Negro
music, heh, seperated
It blew up and became rap
and you hated
it
That's of course till you see
A motherfucker that, could be in your
family
Drop lyrics then you hear it
With glee, then only thing it tells
me
Is that you know a good thing
when you see it.
You run to get a
ten
Cause you cannot be it
So, off the top off my head
I guess I keep
it rollin
Till aaaaaaah... the rap gets stolen
Like so many other things
called theft
And when it's gone what will be left
YOU sucker, dumb fucker
don't turn blue
You know what?
Talkin' to you
You know
what?
Chump
You know what?
You know what?
You know What?