Push It Along Lyrics by A Tribe Called Quest
Verse 1: q-tip
Q-tip is my title.
I dont think that is vital for me to be your idol,
But dig this recital.
If you cant envision a brother who aint dissin,
Slingin this and that, cause this and that was missin.
Instead, its been injected, the tribe has been perfected.
Oh yes, its been selected, the art makes it protected.
Afrocentric livin, africans be givin
A lot to the cause cause the cause has been risen.
Some brothers, they be flammin, thinkin we aint slammin,
Comin off like the days where we used to wear the tans and
A blue-colllar talker, a hemisphere stalker,
A glass of o.j and a ten mile walk-a.
If youre in a jeep and you dig what youre hearin,
Can I get a beep and a ? of cheerin?
I am what I am, thats a tribal man.
We all know the colours, we all must stand.
As we start our travels, things they will unravel.
Que sera sera, for this unit is like gravel.
Wont be gone for long, listen to the song.
If you cant pull it, all ya gotta do is
Chorus:
Push it along, push it along.
Push it along, yeah, push it along. (repeat 4x)
Verse 2: pfeife, q-tip
Put one up for the pfeife, its time to deceipher.
The ills of the world make the situation lighter.
The clock is always tickin, the systems should be kickin.
Like ? ham and eggs, I eat chicken, chicken, chicken.
Should I release the lever, the lever of the clever,
Embelish on the funk as we start to endeavour?
The ? wraughts? of the rap filling up the gap
With the smash of a hand and a little toe tap.
The boom, the bip, the boom bip
Indicates to the brothers that we be on the flip tip.
Phonies start to crumble, funky rhythm rumbles
Through the dance-hall, but my anthem is humble.
Its the nitty-gritty, my time is itty-bitty,
So I ? kick the slash for the gipper? and the witty.
This aint trial and error,
Q-tip is my title.
I dont think that is vital for me to be your idol,
But dig this recital.
If you cant envision a brother who aint dissin,
Slingin this and that, cause this and that was missin.
Instead, its been injected, the tribe has been perfected.
Oh yes, its been selected, the art makes it protected.
Afrocentric livin, africans be givin
A lot to the cause cause the cause has been risen.
Some brothers, they be flammin, thinkin we aint slammin,
Comin off like the days where we used to wear the tans and
A blue-colllar talker, a hemisphere stalker,
A glass of o.j and a ten mile walk-a.
If youre in a jeep and you dig what youre hearin,
Can I get a beep and a ? of cheerin?
I am what I am, thats a tribal man.
We all know the colours, we all must stand.
As we start our travels, things they will unravel.
Que sera sera, for this unit is like gravel.
Wont be gone for long, listen to the song.
If you cant pull it, all ya gotta do is
Chorus:
Push it along, push it along.
Push it along, yeah, push it along. (repeat 4x)
Verse 2: pfeife, q-tip
Put one up for the pfeife, its time to deceipher.
The ills of the world make the situation lighter.
The clock is always tickin, the systems should be kickin.
Like ? ham and eggs, I eat chicken, chicken, chicken.
Should I release the lever, the lever of the clever,
Embelish on the funk as we start to endeavour?
The ? wraughts? of the rap filling up the gap
With the smash of a hand and a little toe tap.
The boom, the bip, the boom bip
Indicates to the brothers that we be on the flip tip.
Phonies start to crumble, funky rhythm rumbles
Through the dance-hall, but my anthem is humble.
Its the nitty-gritty, my time is itty-bitty,
So I ? kick the slash for the gipper? and the witty.
This aint trial and error,