Lyrics:

AND SUDDENLY OVER THE LOUDSPEAKER I HEARD..

In the heat of the night I step swift
Jettin to the spot that got the most gift
To hoop to boot, sittin in my drum loop
Pistol loaded and I'm ready to shoot
See my gun is my tongue and it runs like a track star
Not Madam Chapman but I got a fast car
E-x double Vex, we're strong like sex
Cut the corner, hit the next left
Reside to the westside, it's hole in the ground
Not Paradise but a nice boomin sound
Party packed with nuff heads
Some black, some white, some hood and some dreads
Surround the club, with the dub that swayed 'em
The remix version of Steppin to the A.M
Played the club like a crumb to the curb
And this kid greased my palm and said 'Word to the 3rd'

You can flip on my lip, I throw joints out
Out the box I stop some for some doubt
Took you out last album I was steppin
Now your slippin on my gold disc, kept flippin
On the 3rd, flyest fingers of Kev swab
Seven signs on the walls, your head bobs
Mouths will move to this, you ain't through with this
This ain't a suicide so why'd you grab your wrist
I take a listen to the lyrics I formed up
Slidin in the Green Hornet as I warm it up
Cause the 3rd is like a lyric dispenser
For hire like Spenser but my trigger finger's tenser
My sixth sense getting loopy as a soulflex
Turn to soup and you ask which duck is next
Hookin phrases, clauses, nouns and verbs
Steppin off, set it off, it's word to the 3rd

P-E-T-E and me now step to the back
Tracks are stacked, the party dumb packed
The sweat off my brow is glistening
And in the dance hall, not one kid missing
A step while the non-step don't step
They chill on the side or reside to the left
A mack daddy makin a move smooth
Whisper sweet nothings or something to soothe
The savage beast, at least get the number
To the residence
While you flash mad presidents
Crazy Grants, a few Jacksons
Grips got traction to show that your maxin
But she ain't down with the bum rush
And seen better pick-up moves off a lint brush
So you got played, word to Herb
Don't slip, money grip, it's called word to the 3rd

As you move and you follow in the Serch-lite
Writing music up and fixin up the mix right
Some tight on the pockets and per diem
I see em jettin from the 3-R-D, fleein
Keyin up like a master lock picker
Figure that I stop cause I'm out quicker
Not Mr. Rogers, I'm rollin with Mr. Hood
Menace and Doom, not a friendly neighborhood
As a crew it ain't only me and myself
Just the 3rd knocking fiction off the shelf
Makin moves on 33 1/3
Daddy Rich cuttin records of spoken words
Rollin up like this cause I'm pissed
Yo, Serch, what's the word? (Ah yeah, there it is!)
Or is it just a figure of speech, herb
3rd Bass puts in place the word to the third

WHAT IT IS, IT AIN'T AND WHAT IT AIN'T, IT IS