Text: Kwest Tha Madd Lad. This Is My First Album. Disk And Dat.

Now 'earrr dis!
Your man Kwest comin from Southside Queens
Gettin ready to hit you in the ear with a lil bit of FLA-VOR
Seen? (??)

[Chorus]
Me say, disk and dat, disk and dat
And Mr. Engineer make sure me track comes out fat
Me say, disk and dat, disk and dat
And Mr. Engineer make sure me track comes out fat

[Kwest]
Now this is on the reel to reel - or if you prefer the ADAT
You don't get what I say black? Hit rewind, then playback
I work mega-swiftly with an S-950
Or MPC-60, so when it's fat ideas hit me
Don't fuck with beat product', head got a built in four track
Use sixteen, or twenty-four tracks if I need more tracks
Run in the vocal booth and close the door so it's soundproof
Freein my lyrics in one take if mistakes are found POOF
They're gone with the push of a button on the board
Done by Eric Sarafin, the (?) board overlord
Slap them headphones on, raise mic levels and I'm gone
Won't stop spittin my shit until the monitors are blown (BOOM!)
Lay my verses out with punch-ins, if we hungry order lunch in
Take a few EQ levels and muse, while we be munchin
Make the bass smack the face while the drums kick your chest in
Bring the (?) here for the session
Just in case I get a urge to splurge on effects and reverb
Once that cue system shit hit them ears your brain's gonna curve
Drop the mister two inch, half inch for any edits
Radio won't play me with all that cursin but I don't sweat it
Cause the FCC, won't mess with me
In place of all my curses I got reverse and BLEEPS
Make myself a cassette, to hoop in my jeep deck
Grab the disk then dat, give my crew dap, then I jet

[Chorus]

[Kwest]
I mix my batter bigger and better cause I use batter butter
But if (?) batter be bigger and butter ain't in your matter brother
I better batter butter, not that batter butter that's bitter
So your batter be better not bitter, and mad fatter nigga
Not many can hit what this brother pitch
Like a fly I'm on dis shit, dat shit, next shit, some other shit
With no type of excuse I gets very loose
And have you bounce around to my sound, like you drank Gummy Baby juice
Filthy or milky I should live in a cow's udder
If a nigga bit my script, he'd get a mouth full of butter
Hit the spot like an ice cold Coke and what I spoke
choked folks and left them (?), "That nigga dope!"
I like the indo, I like the Timbos, I like them bimbos
I like stealin your shit late at night, so lock the windows
Whether nigga or spic I stick and think hawk quick
Watch your chick or I may be leavin her house with a sore-ass dick
Got a +Soul+ full of +Mischief+, I'm +Casual+ when I rip it
More specific, +The Homosapien's+ funky and +Hieroglyphic+
That means the writing's on the wall
Y'all who thought I would be Niagara and fall
Play ball caddy - GET THE BALLS!
Still, those who wanna act ill and test the skills
(LET ME SHOW YOU SOMETHING!) Like Fire Marshall Bill
Don't think someone this slick comes from Sutton or Van Wyck?
You can suck mine, my dog, my brother, and all my man dick!
I can't flow no more I'm wack (naw that shit's fat)
Aight, end the track, bring back in the chorus chat

[Chorus]

[New Chorus]
Me say, disk and dat, disk and dat
And Mr. Engineer make sure me track comes out fat
Me say, disk and dat, disk and dat
And Mr. Engineer you did your job, that's a wrap!