[Kick this one here for me and my DJ]



You can cha-cha-cha to this Mardis Gras

I'm the dopest female that you've heard thus far

And I do get better, the voice gets wetter

Nobody gets hurt (as long as you let her)

Do my thing with an '89 swing

The dopeness I write, I guarantee delight



To the hip-hop maniac, the Uptown brainiac

In full effect, MC Lyte is back

And better than before as if that was possible

My competition, you'll find them in the hospital

Visiting time, I think it's on a Sunday

But notice they only get one day to shine

The rest of the week is mine

And I'll blind you with the science that the others have yet to find

So come along and I'll lead you the right way

Just clap your hands to the words I say, come on...