Released: June 30, 1992
Songwriter: Ali Shaheed Muhammad Phife Dawg Q-Tip
Producer: A Tribe Called Quest
[Hook: Ali Shaheed Muhammad]
Hot sex on a platter
Hot sex on a platter
Hot sex on a platter
Hot sex on a platter
Hot sex on a platter
Hot sex on a platter
Hot sex on a platter
Hot sex on a platter
[Verse 1: Phife Dawg]
Aiyo, put one up for the Phifer, long time no hear from
Suckers walkin' around talkin' about they could get some
But that vibe is non-cypher, no can do
And if you take I fi' joke, then ask the other two
And I proceed to let you know, exactly how to flow
I'm not Lawn Doctor so just seckle with the hoe
Oops... my mistake, I didn't know you went with her
Should I run down the line of all the kids that done hit her?
Don't be bitter, I hear that honey resembles a critter
Heard she likes the two-on-one like my man John Ritter
But back to the subject, you can't catch wreck
You must get respect, to earn respect
Suckers think they could hurt me, 'cause now I wear specs
You're full of jokes, but yo, your name ain't Flex
I got the riches, the bitches, I'm large like a Huxtable
You think you're all that, but your girl's quite doable!
Yeah, I'm tellin' you G, to back up off me
I’m not a man called Hawk, but I ain’t Mr. Softee
Rappin' is an art comin' straight from the heart
So forget the chart because the action can start
[Hook: Ali Shaheed Muhammad]
Hot sex on a platter
Hot sex on a platter
Hot sex on a platter
Hot sex on a platter
Hot sex on a platter
Hot sex on a platter
Hot sex on a platter
Hot sex on a platter
[Verse 2: Q-Tip]
Uh ha... where ya at? To all my people with the funk
I'm the undercover brother, dump your hoe in the trunk
Save all the sad songs and the tearjerkers
Niggas, step back, it's the lyrical worker
The poems that I create ain't in paperback books
The poems that I create are for hookers and the crooks
My mental is excellin' 'cause I dabble in the books
I'm not the one to front on, so suboops-suboops
Yo, I gets the pickin's, I'm such a damn Dickens
If you step to this then the plot just thickens
I'll run you around the track like a bunny and a dog
To me, your just another MC on the log
A link in the chain, fluid on the brain
I boast of hype lyrics, and yours are mundane
See, I can't maintain, especially if you come back
I'm the lyrical master blaster, yeah, I could do that
I could also do your girl, so leave the hoe at home
'Cause when I get done, I'll have her strung on bones
It's the no-joke pressure that elevates my mind
Make me pick up and go when it's time to drop my rhymes
My title is rock, the Abstract Poetic
I'm in the idle mode but my energy's kinetic
So smooth and debonair, special for the ear
Gotta keep my thing in gear
'Cause it's evident and clear that I will rock, rock, rock...
[Hook: Ali Shaheed Muhammad]
Hot sex on a platter
Hot sex on a platter
Hot sex on a platter
Hot sex on a platter
Hot sex on a platter
Hot sex on a platter
Hot sex on a platter
Hot sex on a platter
Hot sex on a platter
Hot sex on a platter
Hot sex on a platter
Hot sex on a platter
Hot sex on a platter
Hot sex on a platter
Hot sex on a platter
Hot sex on a platter
[Verse 1: Phife Dawg]
Aiyo, put one up for the Phifer, long time no hear from
Suckers walkin' around talkin' about they could get some
But that vibe is non-cypher, no can do
And if you take I fi' joke, then ask the other two
And I proceed to let you know, exactly how to flow
I'm not Lawn Doctor so just seckle with the hoe
Oops... my mistake, I didn't know you went with her
Should I run down the line of all the kids that done hit her?
Don't be bitter, I hear that honey resembles a critter
Heard she likes the two-on-one like my man John Ritter
But back to the subject, you can't catch wreck
You must get respect, to earn respect
Suckers think they could hurt me, 'cause now I wear specs
You're full of jokes, but yo, your name ain't Flex
I got the riches, the bitches, I'm large like a Huxtable
You think you're all that, but your girl's quite doable!
Yeah, I'm tellin' you G, to back up off me
I’m not a man called Hawk, but I ain’t Mr. Softee
Rappin' is an art comin' straight from the heart
So forget the chart because the action can start
[Hook: Ali Shaheed Muhammad]
Hot sex on a platter
Hot sex on a platter
Hot sex on a platter
Hot sex on a platter
Hot sex on a platter
Hot sex on a platter
Hot sex on a platter
Hot sex on a platter
[Verse 2: Q-Tip]
Uh ha... where ya at? To all my people with the funk
I'm the undercover brother, dump your hoe in the trunk
Save all the sad songs and the tearjerkers
Niggas, step back, it's the lyrical worker
The poems that I create ain't in paperback books
The poems that I create are for hookers and the crooks
My mental is excellin' 'cause I dabble in the books
I'm not the one to front on, so suboops-suboops
Yo, I gets the pickin's, I'm such a damn Dickens
If you step to this then the plot just thickens
I'll run you around the track like a bunny and a dog
To me, your just another MC on the log
A link in the chain, fluid on the brain
I boast of hype lyrics, and yours are mundane
See, I can't maintain, especially if you come back
I'm the lyrical master blaster, yeah, I could do that
I could also do your girl, so leave the hoe at home
'Cause when I get done, I'll have her strung on bones
It's the no-joke pressure that elevates my mind
Make me pick up and go when it's time to drop my rhymes
My title is rock, the Abstract Poetic
I'm in the idle mode but my energy's kinetic
So smooth and debonair, special for the ear
Gotta keep my thing in gear
'Cause it's evident and clear that I will rock, rock, rock...
[Hook: Ali Shaheed Muhammad]
Hot sex on a platter
Hot sex on a platter
Hot sex on a platter
Hot sex on a platter
Hot sex on a platter
Hot sex on a platter
Hot sex on a platter
Hot sex on a platter
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