To Whom It May Concern

You know what?

Huh?

You know what?

What?

You know what?

You know what?

The

Sugar D I C D A D I E

That's just a title, explaining who I be

Mista L A W N G E

I take a sucker from any phil and injure thee

Now that I've spelled it out

And you like the way it sounds

I'm dissing rap music

and rap music on the grounds

You say I'm full of sheep

And for that I give a pound

The Sugar Dick Daddy

Mista Lawnge to break it down

Ladies, step to me for a real neat treat

And if you don't wanna call me Lawnge

You can call me sweet meat

I wear protection, you won't catch claps here

Come over later, but first go get a pap smear

Nine point five okay dear?

And don't forget clean underwear

Cause I don't want the funk to flow

After after I'm done, yo ya gotta go

'Don't you know ho, don-tcha know ho'

Okay enough is enough, time to get that off my bladder

And dig deep into the subject matter

You know what?

You know what?

I'm sick and tired of rappers not real

And suckers makin' it with a pop feel

Labels signin acts with nuff bills

Tax write off, cause you have no skills

You go make a demo

get a deal and start to sprout

Gold, platinum, and then start sellin out

You get a Benz and trash the Nova

Double platinum, and start crossin over

Then you get fall, I won't give examples

HINT HINT, they use the same old samples

But not the Sheep

for we are sleek and unique

Top of the peek and others are weak

Follow the words that I speak

The situation is bleak

But this is the fly shit that you seek

When the style is dope

Mista Lawnge'sa particapator

If you wanna battle, later

Cause Black Sheep are certified greater than...

But, I said later man

'I can dig it'

You know what?

You know what?

You know what?

You know what?

You know what?

You know what?

You know what?

You know what?

I turn on the radio

Be a prime time to a late night rap show

Here, the same old, same old

And that's on your, new single

Your product, is a product, of no productivity

Can ya, see G?

You kick a wack style

And claim to have brains

Take the funky drummer and give him back to James

I'm dope, I'm dope

Heh, I can't cope

Keep your cordless, cause you bore this

You say you're sure, yeah

but I'm the surest

That, Black Sheep are unique

Funk clever brothers that will

make the church girl freak

Out, without a doubt

You have no wins in a '91 bout

So shout, pout,do what you want

But you're out the picture

And I'ma get you sucka

Cause youse a dumb mothafucka

Better off as a tractor trail trucker

But movin right along to the Woodstock

Stop, remember when the band was on rock

Negro music, heh, seperated

It blew up and became rap

and you hated it

That's of course till you see

A motherfucker that, could be in your family

Drop lyrics then you hear it

With glee, then only thing it tells me

Is that you know a good thing

when you see it.

You run to get a ten

Cause you cannot be it

So, off the top off my head

I guess I keep it rollin

Till aaaaaaah... the rap gets stolen

Like so many other things called theft

And when it's gone what will be left

YOU sucker, dumb fucker don't turn blue

You know what?

Talkin' to you

You know what?

Chump

You know what?

You know what?

You know What?