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Correct Rhythm (Devoted To The Art Of Moving Butts) Lyrics
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Artists: A
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A Tribe Called Quest
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Correct Rhythm (Devoted To The Art Of Moving Butts)
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Lyrics:
It's a new decade The Native Tongues are about to proceed with the usual lingo The usual rhythm Devoted to, the art of moving butts The rhythm's happenin', and it's movin' up The Tribe has been on hold for much too long Don't fear the rhythm because it's strong On the corners, brothers bop their heads From the high-tops to the knotty dreads I'm a Nubian y'all, look what we did Took the crust away from the third eye lid Now, it's kinda open, longs to see the site Rhythms of the Tribe which is passed out right Night after night, day after day Questin' for the rhythms of the Native Tongue lay Rhythm is the key as we open up the door Things a b-boy has never seen before Polyrhythmatic with a big fat boom You have an eargasm as you start to consume The ghetto beat with a ghetto poem Yeah, it's from the heart, 'cause it's from the home Jarobi, Phife, Ali Shaheed Call me Koala, got what you need You're a disc jock, then jock this Rhythms can't lose, rhythms can't miss If you feel uptight and you need to freak It'll be alright once we drop this beat I got the rhythm, you got the rhythm I got the rhythm, you got the rhythm I got the rhythm, you got the rhythm I got the rhythm, you got the rhythm I got the rhythm, you got the rhythm I got the rhythm, you got the rhythm I got the rhythm, you got the rhythm I got the rhythm, you got the rhythm Mama say, ma ma coo sa Gets hectic, freak a bourgeois We Quest around for the musical hard On the avenues, streets and boulevard Not sellin' out, that's a negative Lovin' hip hop, lovin' heritage Got the instinct to travel miles and miles Gotta whole lot of room for piles and piles Now, you're kinda with it, want to get the funk From the Zulu Nation, toppin' all the junk Standin' on the top like the Temptations said Rhythms are obese, yeah, you gotta keep 'em fed Read what I read, can't be better said Tribalic motions dabble in the head Sweetback's bad, not as bad a beat It's a "stone groove baby" Continue, on the windy road But, I'm luggin', a crazy big load Will we be on point for the ninety deck Is it muscle bound and will it flex? But trudging, we are used to You don't Quest alone, Quest with a crew We're four, once more, must make the tracks You see four fronts, but now you see four backs I got the rhythm, you got the rhythm
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