Q-Tip
Oh My God (Know Naim Remix)
[Verse 1: Snag-Dulla]
Ayo, I raise hell, kid, so you can call me Thaddeus
The lyrical G, cold jettin' in a C
Chrome Daytons, inspiratin', motivatin'
Take you to a level, couldn't dig it with a shovel
I'll cramp your fuckin' style like you ate before you swum
Smokin' mad mics, pollutin' motherfuckers' lungs, n***a
It's the triggers that I pull when I have to
Rhymes, kid, I'll pack it in my Eddie Bauer jacket
I take the skill to the letter, smackin' faces, breakin' backs
I'm on a fuckin' chiropractors hitlist
Come on, kid, you're transparent like some plastic
Elastic, stretching cunts, smoking blunts
I eat emcees like liquor eat your liver
It's the Snag, flowing like a natural dirty river
Polluted, couldn't sterilize it if you blue'd it
It's the Know Naim, live long like the Kane
Snap, pop, crackling, microphones I'm tackling, chump
So lay back, close your eyes, puff the blunt
And feel the fuckin' funk
One time for your motherfuckin' mind, and...

[Verse 2: Lo-Income]
This is the next shit, the funky horn of your section
I play emcees like sport, I roll deep with my peeps
They got my back like a Jansport
Lo get sick with his rhymes like fuckin' cancer
When I rock the mic, I get shit hype like a Luke dancer
I drink Ripple, my rhymes shine like a fuckin' nickel
It's the Naim, no games, we don't tickle
You wanna check the Naim? It's all good, par
We bust nuts like Pee Wee Herman in a strip bar
I get wreck on joints lovely while my crew sips the bubbly
Score 60 points, so yo, the coach cold subbed me
Come on, B, come on B
Now n***as wanna play Lo funk like Simple E
[Verse 3: Bay Lloyd]
Your career is over, go check the wanted ads
Hop out on stage like n***as hop outta dollar cabs
When I come with flavor, come on, son, don't sweat it
Play like En Vogue because you're never gonna get it
The choice is yours, if you try to play me close
Burn competition like a blind n***a making toast
For Bay to rock the mic is his only desire
Emcees that wear my style, I give 'em quarters for the dryer
Ain't a molester but an ill-dipped dresser
I'm on some chillin' shit like that n***a Large Professor
Like an usher, we collect ducats on some thug shit
Get charm, and I start to see some bugged shit
Pay no mind for those that try to distract me
Road to fame is bumpy so I use mad acne
When it comes to moves, kid, I never fake it
You're busy like ... in the Village gettin' naked
So peace to Ike Love and my man Consequence
Do it like this because Linden represents