Jazz (We`ve Got)

Rough, rough, rugged Tough like a nugget Listen to the Abstract Poetic, don't snub it The Midnight Marauder is the hype beat arranger Don't front on the lyrics or the two cuz it's danger Hook you like a junkie, you'll flip like a monkey To the openness of the rhythm, so proceed because I'm funky I get down, down like a fly hooker's panties Make you catch a spirit and motivate a fanny I be the fly poet, rappers, they get jelly Upset when I rock, cuz yo, they beats is smelly See, I got it goin on like a Forbes tax return Listenin to these lyrics when it's hot will make it burn Baby burn, baby burn, up into the heavens The skies up above, the one you think of Is the highly regarded, hell of the people Your mic and my mic? Come on, yo, no equal So if ya wanna do it to yourself That is to mess around with the jazz, then just blame yourself Cuz you made your bed, so now you lay in it That's your (shit) on the floor, then go and play in it I refuse to catch a 'L' in a battle Cuz yo, I got the jazz and I'll whup a rapper's (ass) Into little next to nuthin Test me if I'm frontin I'm passin flyin colors cuz yo... Chorus (Q-Tip): Who got the jazz? (We've got the jazz) (7X) We've got the jazz Come on Come on, Phife Phife: No need for introductions cuz you know who I be (the Phife Dawg) Yep, the one who loves to slaugher MCs I got style, grace and razamatazz I'm like my girl Patrice Rushen, yo I add pizazz, now Most people remember Phife from the Phife like smoothness But now it's time to hit you with roughneck rudeness I'm st