Text: De La Soul. The Bizness.

And and bass up the track a little bit
Cuz I I'm here I wanna hear that boom bish boom, knowhatI'msayin?

Yeah yeah you know the bizness
Common Sense, soul with the De La
Get all them play-ahs
We the rhyme sayers
Huh, and that's the bizness, hah
Gonna do it like this
Gettin it that
Like the Chicago streets

[Verse One: Dove]

I speak divine of God theories, no need to be high
Always exhale the facts cause I don't inhale lye/lie
Play the greater man's game, to bounce off my losses
So I can earn the acres (uhh) the houses (yeah) the horses (huh)
Of course it's much greater than your Benx or your Lex
The engine to my comprehension is just too complex
Much too complex, EFX/effects be live like Das
Making moves down South, to avoid the chaos
And never, flaunt the coin cuz dime-getters be gazin
They call me Luther Van, they say my style is so Amazin
I'm fazin those who're supposed to have the last laughter
Cuz even when I'm gone I'm reappearin in the after
I haveta, send respects to real money makers
Do not connect us with those champaign sippin money fakers
Taste the quarter pound with spice from Chi-town
Now what that prove, you're so full you can't even move

[Chorus:]

Cause I'm the D-to-the-O, the-V-to-the-E
And can't another brother cook these delicacies

Well I'm the P-L-U, the G-to-the-One
Walk around the planet earth making money having fun

And I'm the C-to-the-O, double-M-O-N
I sit and think with a drink about how I'm gonna win
I'm the C-to-the-O, double-M-O-N
I sit and think with a drink...

[Verse Two: Common]

Do you wanna be a MC? Or do you wanna serve
Do you wanna be dope? Or do you wanna deal it
Fabricated acryllic, I feel it, I'm the style molester
I do a show get Extra P's like the Large Professor
In fact I get more hoes than Tessa, peep game like a
refa-ree in soul control of my
desti-ny, in the best of, three out of five
Whip ANYBODY ass at NBA Live, rappers
take a dive like Greg Lougainis with his bitch-ass
Rather be in Bebe's alley, than at the click with gators
Not a hater of the players, I'm more like a coach, or an owner
I Used To Love H.E.R., but now I bone her (ahuh-hah!)
At one point in rhyme I thought I lost my erection
But then I got it back with the Resurrection, blessings
upon rhymes old man who called him traitor
Big Com Stradamus niggaz styles I predict

[Chorus:]

I'm the C-to-the-O, double-M-O-N
I sit and think with a drink about how I'm gonna win

And I'm the D-to-the-O, the-V-to-the-E
And can't no other brother cook these delicacies

Well I'm the P-L-U, the-G-to-the-One
Walk around the planet earth making money having fun
Walk around the planet earth making money having fun
Walk around the planet earth making money having fun

[Verse Three: Pos]

I'm the most from the coast of the East, then flee
Droppin more knowledge than litter, on the New York peeve
It's me, wonder why, in the place to be
Certified, as superior, MC
While others explore to make it hardcore
I make it hard for, wack MC's to even step inside the door
Cause these kids is rhyming, sometiming
And when we get to racing on the mic, they line up to see
the lyrical killing, with stained egos on the ceiling
My rhymes escalates like black death rates
Over music plates, being played as the rule
Kids thinking stepping to the Soul, you're labelled fools
who claims to drop jewels but for now you do the catching
I don't worry on what crew you run, or what section of earth
you reside, you're not even a man
So I don't seem it mandatory taking your pride
But I will, cause my man said Soul for the life
You cried "Keepin it real", yet you should try keepin it right
That's understanding microphone mathematics
Which leaves the currency in temporary world status
And when one shows he posed threat to this one
This one will make that one into none
Simple equation, zero, you shouldn't play hero
If you can't stand Strong like the Island I'm from

[Chorus:]

Now I'm the P-L-U, the-G-to-the-One
Walk around the planet earth making money having fun

Yeah, and I'm the-C-to-the-O, double-M-O-N
I sit and think with a drink about how I'm gonna win

And I'm the D-to-the-O, the-V-to-the-E
And can't another brother cook these delicacies
See can't another brother cook these delicacies
See can't another brother cook these delicacies

[Outro: Common]

Ahh that's how, that's how I'm supposed to do my thing huh
Like triple it, alright
That's how we do it, all the way from Strong Island to Chicago
The type of freestyler flow
Yeah, it's fluent, and we don't need to flow no more
Hah

[Intro: this comes before "Wonce Again Long Island" on the LP]

To my man Mos Def yo he nonstop
To my man Enola, yo he's nonstop
And to my kin de Calhoun, yo he's nonstop
Yo that girl MP, yo she's nonstop
And to that crew Camp Lo, yo they nonstop
And to that nigga Pop Life, yo he's nonstop
And to my cousin Fudd Love, you know he nonstop
My brother Lucky and Pert, yo they nonstop
And to my man Joe Buck, you know he nonstop
And my man Extra P, yo he's nonstop
And my man Mike Divine, you know he nonstop
That kid called Baby Paul, yo he's nonstop
And to the Jazzyfatnastees, yo you're nonstop
And my peoples Beatminerz, man they nonstop
And to my man Mr. Bug, you know you're nonstop
And yo, Litro, yo, he's nonstop
And to, my dean The Green, yo you're nonstop
And to my man Prince Paul yo he's nonstop
And to that man Kid Capri yo you nonstop
And A Tribe Called Quest, man they nonstop
And don't forget the Jungle Beez yo they nonstop

[Extra Verse: sampled from "Down Syndrome"]

Let me tell you a little something about Soul (tell em son)
I be a piece of the East coast, so give a toast to
Plug Wonder why back in the day who soaked his words in jigga
So when I ran a phrase in June you didn't catch it til December
I'm a member of them kids from the inner city
Giving you kitties audible treats, you be aching for making
more money than a pagan holiday
Not from the PJ's, yet I still got something to say