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(feat. Q-Tip & The Large Professor) |
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Yeah, uhh uhh I.N.I. is in the place |
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Yeah yeah uuh |
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Along with my man Extra P and my man Q-T |
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Here in the place to be |
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With the capital P, Rock on |
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[Verse 1: Grap Luva] |
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I'm braced just from my voice bring life to microphones |
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And my weight phone moves I'm headed for the dead zone |
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You heads flown and it's a crazy rest |
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You should've vest when the Kane come to test the best |
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So next up is the one the non-half stepper |
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Keeper of the thought, healer of the lepras |
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Controller of the treezy with no ego to feed |
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Cause I stays level headed, vocabulary |
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I'm better up in the dome, I'm bound to crush |
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Rollin' up I spill the bone free |
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See it's the G bring it to you in the physical |
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Comin' through with the crucial ball material |
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I entertain each time I'm in the session |
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Leavin brothers guessin', yo what's that sound |
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Got 'em wishin' they was on this bitches mouth goin' down |
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InI vibrations over plumb tracks |
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Most of y'all found cats couldn't match that |
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Touch this, I don't think you should attempt to |
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Cause if you do, plus I got two examples |
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From gettin any clout |
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No doubt to each his own |
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[Chorus] |
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To each his own (repeat 8 times) |
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[Verse 2: Q-Tip] |
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Check it out to each his own, watch out cat |
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Niggas think daz can get a dollar bill |
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Choices made, they choose the ill |
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Inside a nigga wanna survivalism of all the scrams |
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It's crazy let's make you move, tryin to be topscore |
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And he really don't give a rats ass who he go to |
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He's a big boy, he bites all he can chew |
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But yo I eat all plates with hip hop written on it |
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Pete Rock the group I.N.I. shittin on it |
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Lyrically impressive ain't no second guesses |
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The most poppin shit talker is the one who stresses |
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And you see the Abstract with a tight lipped caddy |
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Speakin on my peace and my soul is ever vary |
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Til my microphone I dialogue |
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Sit back with a whole lot a love, complement it with claps |
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I'm on some grown men shit, my peak is not yet reached |
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So I remind my one and take 'em each |
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To each his own |
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[Chorus] |
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[Verse 3: Rob-O] |
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Excuse me, I'm here to earn a man a buck or two |
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Now take a chance with life or lose the fuckin you |
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All your friends, your flower lack potent |
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You used to be shy but now you wanna be my stands |
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On the E-L this is gonna swell for a second |
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While I'm catchin wreck, how many others should she step in |
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The sack with, guess I better get a Profalectic |
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Back to the crib in case I smack it |
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Bad tactic cause a gym hat caught it flat |
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Plus the ball stick wasn't even all of that |
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Now it's hectic I'm headin to the joint gettin injected |
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Plus the fact that I'm infected |
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So check it out, yo when you with these chicks |
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And they spread out, with skins enough to take ya head out |
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Use precaution cause some is packin' death behind the set |
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Peace to the Gods, so watch your dick |
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To each his own |
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[Verse 4: Large Professor] |
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To each his own, niggas is sown, bout to full blown |
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Brother who could never be a clone |
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Large Pro so fuck your bullshit harsh, yo |
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I'm rappin with the weapon my whole squad glow |
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Like a diamond, so don't sham fan, I have to climb in |
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That ass like a truck, leavin niggas as struck |
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Like lightening bold that cats flow goes right in the volt |
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In the end peace to land times ten |
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Cee-Lo the whole I.N.I. is my people |
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So sit back relax and just listen while we pull |
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The moneys and honeys fake fours did clone |
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To each his own, to each his own |
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[Chorus](repeated til fade) |
