Bad news, bad news I heard you're packing to leave I come running right over I just couldn't believe it I couldn't believe it Oh baby, baby You must be out of your mind Do you know what you're kicking away We've got a good thing goin', baby We've got a groovy thing I've never done you no wrong I never hit you when you're down I always gave you good thing I never ran around I never ran around Oh baby, baby You must be out of your mind Do you know what you're kicking away We've got a good thing goin', baby We've got a groovy thing There's something you ought to know If you're fixing to go I can't make it without you No no no no, no no no no No no no no, no no no no Oh baby, baby You must be out of your mind Do you know what you're kicking away We've got a good thing goin', baby We've got a groovy thing We've got a good thing goin', baby We've got a groovy thing

Everybody groove to the music Everybody jam Ahhh, uh oh, hey We've been waiting so long Just can't hold it back no more Creepin' up and down now It's time for me to let it go If you really wanna see What we can do for you Send the crazy wildin' static Sing it (ahhh) Jam on 'cause Backstreet's got it Come on now everybody We've got it goin' on for years Jam on 'cause Backstreet's got it Come on now everybody We've got it goin' on for years Ahhh, uh oh, hey We've got it goin' on for years Oh, baby We've got it goin' on for years Well, I'm creepin' up on your left Straight up funky when I get with you I get ruthless when I get wet Keep the party packed in my corner Tough like granite to keep the crowd hype Get up on this just to get right What you want is what you're gonna get Backstreet's got the special effects, uh If you really wanna see What we can do for you Send a crazy wildin' static Sing it (ahhhh) Jam on 'cause Backstreet's got it Come on now, everybody We've got it goin' on for years Jam on 'cause Backstreet's got it Come on now, everybody We've got it goin' on for years Ahhh, uh oh We've got it goin' on for years (we've got it goin' on) Hey, hey, yeah We've got it goin' on for years We've been waiting so long Just can't hold it back no more (ohhhh) Creepin' up and down now It's time for me to let it go It's time for me to let it go Jam on, jam on Everybody grove to the music Everybody jam (uh oh) Everybody grove to the music Everybody jam (uh oh) Jam on 'cause Backstreet's got it (everybody grove to the music) Come on now, everybody We've got it goin' on for years (everybody jam, uh oh) Jam on 'cause Backstreet's got it (everybody grove to the music) Come on now, everybody We've got it goin' on for years (everybody jam, uh oh) We've got it goin' on

We've got the jazz We've got the jazz We've got the jazz We've got the jazz We've got the jazz We've got the jazz We've got the jazz We've got the jazz Stern firm and young with a laid-back tongue The aim is to succeed and achieve at 21 Just like Ringling Brothers, I'll daze and astound Captivate the mass, 'cause the prose is profound Do it for the strong, we do it for the meek Boom it in your boom it in your boom it in your Jeep Or your Honda or your Beamer or your Legend or your Benz The rave of the town to your foes and your friends So push it, along, trails, we blaze Don't deserve the gong, don't deserve the praise The tranquility will make ya unball your fist For we put hip-hop on a brand-new twist A brand new twist with the homie-alistic So low-key that ya probably missed it And yet it's so loud that it stands in the crowd When the guy takes the beat, they bowed So raise up squire, adjust your attire We have no time to wallow in the mire If you're on a foreign path, then let me do the lead Join in the essence of the cool-out breed Then cool out to the music 'cause it makes ya feel serene With the birds and the bees and all those groovy things Like getting stomach aches when ya gotta go to work Or staring into space when ya feelin' berserk I don't really mind if it's over your head 'Cause the job of resurrectors is to wake up the dead So pay attention, it's not hard to decipher And after the horns, you can check out the Phifer We've got the jazz We've got the jazz We've got the jazz We've got the jazz We've got the jazz We've got the jazz We've got the jazz We've got the jazz Competition, them Phifer come sideway But competition, they mus' come straightway Competition, them Phifer come sideway But competition, they mus' come straightway How's about that, it seems like it's my turn again Althrough the years my mic has been my best friend I know some brothers wonder, can Phifer really kick it? Some even wanna diss me, but why sweat it? I'm all into my music 'cause it's how I make papes Tryin' to make hits, like Kid Capri mixtapes Me sweat another? I do my own thing Strictly hardcore tracks, not a new jack swing I grew up as a Christian so to Jah I give thanks Collect my banks, listen to Shabba Ranks I sing, and chat, I do all of that It's 1991 and I refuse to come wack I take off my hat to other crews that intend to rock But The Low End Theory's here, it's time to wreck shop I got Tip and Shah, so whom shall I fear Stop look and listen, but please don't stare So jet to the store, and buy the LP On Jive or RCA, cassettes and CD's Produced and arranged by the four-man crew And oh shit, Skeff Anselm, he gets props too Make sure you have a system with some phat house speakers So the new shit can rock, from Mars to Massapequot 'Cause where I come from, quality is job one And everybody up on Linden know we get the job done So peace to that crew, and peace to this crew Bring on the tour, we'll see you at a theater nearest you Ayo but wait, back it up, huh, easy back it up Please let the Abstract embellish on the cut Back and forth just like a Cameo song If you dig this joint then please come dance along To the music 'cause it's done just for the rhyme Now I gotta scat and get mine, underlined The jazz, the what? The jazz to move that ass 'Cause the Tribe originates that feelin' of pizazz It's the universal sound, best to brothers on the ground And the ones six below, ya didn't have to go Some say that I'm a sinner 'cause I once had an orgy And sometimes for breakfast I eat grits and porgies If this is a stinker, then call me a stink, I ask "Whas-whas-what" check it out All my peoples in Queens, ya don't stop Now all my peoples in Brooklyn, ya don't stop And all my peoples uptown, ya don't stop That includes the Bronx an' Harlem, ya don't stop Now to that girl Ramelle, ya don't stop I say because Ladies First, ya don't stop And to the JB's, ya don't stop And De La Soul, ya don't stop To my Brand Nubians, ya don't stop And to my Leaders of the New, ya don't stop To my man Large Professor, ya don't stop Pete Rock for the beat, ya don't stop Everybody in the place, ya don't stop Ya keep it on, to the rhythm, ya don't stop And last but not least on the sure shot It's the Zulu nation