Buggin' Out
A Tribe Called Quest

Yo, microphone check one two what is this
The five foot assassin with the ruffneck business
I float like gravity, never had a cavity
Got more rhymes than the Winans got family

No need to sweat Arsenio to gain some type of fame
No shame in my game cause I'll always be the same
Styles upon styles upon styles is what I have
You want to diss the Phifer but you still don't know the half

I sport New Balance sneakers to avoid a narrow path
Messing round with this you catch "the sizing of em?
I never half step cause I'm not a half stepper
Drink a lot of soda so they call me Dr. Pepper

Refuse to compete with BS competition
Your name ain't Special Ed so won't you Seckle With the Mission
I never walk the streets, think it's all about me
Even though deep in my heart, it really could be

I just try my best to like go all out
Some might even say yo shorty black you're buggin' out

Zulu Nation, brothers that's creation
Minds get flooded, ejaculation
Right on the two inch tape

The Abstract poet incognito, runs the cape
Not the best not the worst and occasionally I curse to get my
Point across, so bust, the floss
As I go in between, the grit and the dirt

Listen to the mission listen Miss as I do work,
As I crack the, monotone
Children of the jazz so, get your own
Smoking R&B cause they try to do me

Or the best of the pack but they can't do rap
For it's Abstract, original
You can't get your own and that's, pitiful
I know I'd be the man if I cold yanked the plug

On R&B, but I can't and that's bugged
Buggin' out, buggin' out, buggin' out you're buggin' out

Yo when you bug out, you usually have a reason for the action
Sometimes you don't it's just for mere satisfaction
People be hounding, always surrounding
Pulsing, just like a migraine pounding

You don't really fret, you stay in your sense
'Comafied' your feeling, of absolute tense
You soar off to another world, deep in your mind
But people seem to take that, as being unkind

"Oh yo he's acting stank," really on a regal?
A man of the fame not a man of the people
Believe that if you want to but I tell you this much
Riding on the train with no dough, sucks

Once again a case of your feet in my Nike's
If a crowd is in my realm I'm saying, mic please
Hip-hop is living, can't yank the plug
If you do the result, will end up kind of bugged

Yo, I am not an invalid although I used to smoke the weed out
Ali Shaheed Muhammad used to say I had to be out
Scheming on the cookies with the crazy booming back buns
Pushing on the real hardest so we can have the big fun

When I left for Rosie I was Boulevard status
Battling a MC was when Tip was at his baddest
It was one MC after one MC
What the world could they be wanting see from little old me

Do I have the formula to save the world?
Or was it just because I used to swipe the women and all the girls
I'm the type of brother with the crazy extended hand kid
Dissed by all my brothers I was all up what my man did

Supposed to be my man but now I wonder cause you're feeble
I go out with the strongest and I separate the evils
It's your brain against my mind, for those about to boot out
All you nasty critters even though you see I bug out

Buggin' out, buggin' out, buggin' out you're buggin' out

Written by FAREED, KAMAAL IBN JOHN / TAYLOR, MALIK IZAAK / JONES-MUHAMMAD, ALI SHAHEED
Published by Universal Music Publishing Group

Lyrics Provided By LyricFind Inc.

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