Jazz (We’ve Got) – Song and Lyrics by A Tribe Called Quest


Discover the poetic beauty in ‘Jazz (We’ve Got)’ by A Tribe Called Quest. This lyric breakdown takes you on a journey through the artist’s thoughts, emotions, and the story they aim to tell. From clever metaphors to evocative imagery, we delve into the nuances that make this song a lyrical masterpiece. Whether you’re a fan of A Tribe Called Quest or a lover of well-crafted words, our detailed analysis will give you a deeper understanding and appreciation of this song.

Rough, rough, rugged
Tough like a nugget
Listen to the Abstract Poetic, dont snub it
The Midnight Marauder is the hype beat arranger
Dont front on the lyrics or the two cuz its danger
Hook you like a junkie, youll flip like a monkey
To the openness of the rhythm, so proceed because Im funky
I get down, down like a fly hookers panties
Make you catch a spirit and motivate a fanny
I be the fly poet, rappers, they get jelly
Upset when I rock, cuz yo, they beats is smelly
See, I got it goin on like a Forbes tax return
Listenin to these lyrics when its hot will make it burn
Baby burn, baby burn, up into the heavens
The skies up above, the one you think of
Is the highly regarded, hell of the people
Your mic and my mic? Come on, yo, no equal
So if ya wanna do it to yourself
That is to mess around with the jazz, then just blame yourself
Cuz you made your bed, so now you lay in it
Thats your (shit) on the floor, then go and play in it
I refuse to catch a L in a battle
Cuz yo, I got the jazz and Ill whup a rappers (ass)
Into little next to nuthin
Test me if Im frontin
Im passin flyin colors cuz yo

Who got the jazz? (We’ve got the jazz)
We’ve got the jazz
Come on
Come on, Phife

No need for introductions cuz you know who I be (the Phife Dawg)
Yep, the one who loves to slaugher MCs
I got style, grace and razamatazz
Im like my girl Patrice Rushen, yo
I add pizazz, now
Most people remember Phife from the Phife like smoothness
But now its time to hit you with roughneck rudeness
Im still vexed, fuming, gots to come raw
The first punk that tries to flex, Ill be cracking your jaw
Ill mold you, fold you, roll you up like a spliff
Dont ever try to test or else that (ass) will get whipped
Im forever poppin junk, its like a fat invite
To any MC who wants to flex, yo, we can do this tonight
Gel up my posse up on Linden and 1-9-2
Pull up my brothas from Sayers Ave., the Brooklyn Zoo
All my crew up in Strong Island, so yo, dont sleep
Cuz it only takes a peek to watch that (ass) get beat
Brothas wanna play rough, but they can all get some
Wanna be hero, but youre a zero, that means you gets none
Dont ever try to step to a kid you cant get with
Why mess with a brotha that your girl once slept with?
Im a negro, hes a negro, wanna be a negro too?
But beatin on a woman, is somethin that a puss would do
I love jazz, but that doesnt mean that Im timid
Not really a gangsta rapper but I can swing it for a minute

Who got the jazz? (We’ve got the jazz)
Come on
Who got the jazz? (We’ve got the jazz)
Come on