Are you ready?
Yo, Hurb, take it from the top
One, two...
My mic sound nice, check one
My mic sound nice, check two
My mic sound nice, check three
Are you ready to rock-rock yall
To the beat yall?
A-keep on and you dont stop
Rockin on, keep rockin on
Im the queen on the mic, and its true when I say
That the Pepa MC is here to stay
And you know if I was a book I would sell
Cuz every curve on my body got a story to tell
Yeah, word em up, w-word em up
Cuz Im so fly, nobody can deny
The girl hasnt been born that can deal with I
Me, Sandy D., undoubtably def
Dont need to be dressed, Im fresh to the flesh
Yes, so tough you know it is a must
Now Salt, get on the mic, and tell em why you go crush
Cuz Im oh-aye, Im on, Im on
Im oh-aye, Im so damn on
Like a grasshopper hoppin on the morning lawn
Like a needle on a record when it plays a song
Like Little Boy Blue blowin on his horn
And you know I got to be on
MCs rockin and shockin, but it wont last
Salts on the mic, and Im kickin
Ask me no questions, Ill tell no lies
Its just a little warning, a word to the wise
You been hopin and scopin, layin and prayin
But on the bottom is where youre staying
Youre wack, I thought you understood
Youre not related to me so you could never be good
I know you come from Babylon (And you know why?)
Cuz youre a Babble-On MC (Thats right)
You babble on the microphone about what you wish
But could never be
So please dont tell me how youre gonna rock
Dont brag about the things that you aint got
Dont feed me lies cuz now Im full
My cow just died, I dont need your bull
Yo, yo, turn my mic up a little bit
One, two, one, two - all right, thanks
My mic sound nice, check one
My mic sound nice, check two
My mic sound nice, check three
Right about now as you can see in the place to be
Were not talking about geometry, history or biology
So Sandy D., explain this to me...
Why do they call you the Pepa MC?
You mean you dont know? Thats a shame
Ok Salt, let me explain
Im hot like a fire, burned down, diminished
Oh, now I see! Chill, let me finish
I wanna make one and all understand
I dont play, I slay when the mics in my hand
The room temperature reaches a hundred and four
You can scramble eggs on the floor
The pressure soars, the crowd, they roar
Sweat will drip down to your drawers
The Pepa MC is like hot ice
And I paid the price to make the mic sound nice
Forget about the rest, yes, I dont jest
Youre blessed with one of Americas best
So I think yall better count your blessings
When Salts in the house, hells in session
Its a fact that I will wax
MCs out there are gonna get taxed
Rockin to my funky beat
Im a trip so I know youre gonna fall for me
Cuz this is the year all men fear
Female MCs is movin up here
Salt and Pepa is strictly biz
You know the color of this, you know what time it is
"Super" is the strength of the boomin bass
"Nature" describes our pretty face
Turning out without a doubt
Make no mistake, Queens is in the house
Yeah, check it out, ch-check it out
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