Låttexter: De La Soul. Afro Connections at a Hi 5.

This is dedicated to all those hardcore acts
Yeah, you know them brothers that we used to
Look up to, that fell the fuck off
And now they doing all that R'n'B sh
You mean Rhthym and Blues?
No, rappin' bullsh

Connection A, click, what?
My dick, chick, I smack a fish if you thinks
My connection ain't thick
Dick headed like a punk whip
I travel miles with a rhythmic lip
I rock an Afro in '83, gee, yo
And spray the sheen so I get a Soul Glow
I play the corner tough

And me and Mase pull puffs on a blunt
Givin' high-five is what I want
So I puff a blunt, I don't front
I get spliffed, get a stiff, then I go hump a stunt
Like a pimp pro, nah, man, a super ho
That's cool 'cause I'm still an Afro bro
Yeah, I'm live for my life is hectic
Every hour, every minute, every second

I keep a level head and stay down to earth
'Cause I've been an Afro since birth
Yeah, now I hold my crotch 'cause I'm top-notch
I run amok Sasquatch, and I like to eat live crab
I've got five beepers, you scab
But you can find me directly on the Ave
You niggas cheat me, well who's that!
My breath never smells wack

I eat the watermelon Tic-Tac
Before I kiss myself I always jump back
Yo, gee, this track is stack and you know that

I do three flips when a punk flip on my duke lifts
But I flex more strength when I'm asleep
On the other side with his main tapes
Make her dry her face, buy her gold ear locks
But I may, she flocks round me like a donut
She got sprinkles but I bite my way out
More brothers come about, try to scheme slick
But the Native Tongue's thick

Lick 'em real good, like a real hood should
But the fly tape let the car speakers shake
I ran a cop down, I smile a frown with a but
Show gold teeth, 'cause I ain't a vegetarian
Not scared of beef, sport a feather like Chief
Got a scribble pad, you can get these gonads
'Cause I'm big-willed, blow off like a seal
'Cause connection with the Afro is real

I be the gift of gab, but be a bro with a diss
Because it's tough to bluff a cab
No wonder Melle Mel is 'Rrrr-RAH!'
I play of tape of the son of La-di-da
My cousin Rilo sells blow, a G a day
Keeps his kids hooray, a size nine and half
I kicks my tricks, is to live for Island
I mug a mug vic, but I's cool, I self

With the quickness I bust the true slang
Show no pit to those who don't understand

The Maseo got tailed with the big bail
I busted loose but now the blue goose is on my tail
I seen the ghetto go lower than it is
He don't care, 'cause his nigga's selling crack to the kids
My jeans are brand new, with twelve more
In the closet with my silk, and below
My 45 pack thick, draw quick
If a nigga starts some shibi dibi dit

My crib is uptown, downtown, L.I.
And another crib in Queens
I munch some cornbread, Boar's Head
My favorite pork chops and plate of collar greens
I chill with Shymel, Akeem, Jaheed
And the Rastafarians'll be the crown in
And the Poppa but the connections are still a high-five

Let's get busy