What I'm Supposed 2 B

Give me the funky (etc) Give me the funky beat you know the point I won't miss, uh This is for the twin, and this is for the sister Something gets you all excited too and I'ma swing it What exactly should I do? (Come on, Monie, sing it) Didn't anybody tell you I can be the life and soul Of your party? Yes I'm from England, but I ain't La-Di-Da-Di Givin' it up to you and yo I think I sound swell You ain't rollin' with The Roots? Oh well I [?] the stuff, you shuffle it, it's not to Monie's taste You're walkin' in the dark and I believe that is a waste Case is reopened, Monie will review it Your butt is in my face so with a pencil I'll screw it Yeah that's right you deserve to be [?] the butt For mine and my business, and so what If you're offended? I was offended, but now I mend it Put your remarks in an envelope and send them To hell. I don't even want to smell you close to me For tellin' people What I Am Supposed 2 B When you wake up in the morning, do you really smell the coffee? Or think of other ways to say something else of me Well hang it up, drop it, end of the line I guess you don't have a life, that's why you livin' mine I'm the Mo, and if you Funk Wid Me It would be a big mistake, oh what a punk you'd be For the simple-simple reason you lost your boots Don't seem like you wanna find them— So why should I give a hoot? Scoot, [boot?] Don't be trying to play me out Like I said, and I can do this, you deserve a clout But that's okay, today is my day I'ma just tell you 'bout yourself and pray You snap out of it, although I doubt that you will do this You're headin' towards a case of just hopelessness All you seem to want to do is laugh, hee-hee-hee While I'm tellin' folks What I Am Supposed 2 B Monie is a sister, an auntie, a daughter These are things you don't know which I think you oughta Cut the crap, don't give me that, your mouth is like a slit That opens every time somebody wants to hear shit Get real, scoop your dooty up, shovel it someplace else Like in between the split, yeah that's legit It fits. Get back, stay back, don't be foolish Because you've been scored the number-one dummy, honey Monie is a modest little person It's people like you that tend to bring out the cursin' Within me. Forgive me Those who chose the righetous road to war I had to make a comment to make the fools cease to talk About me. I see myself as gossip-free I don't be sayin' nothin' 'bout nobody Why should they do it to me? I had no album, I had no nothin' Cause this was back in the days, and yet still they was discussin' The Mo. What's your problem? You have nothin' to call your own? Well, that's besides the point in this poem And for your information I'll tell you Who I'm Supposed 2 B Cause it's a matter of who I am: M-O-N-I-E Indeed the Monie was born in B-A-double-T-E-R-S-E-A I say, how many games would you like to play? Monopoly, Scrabble, show me a magic trick I'll plain stab you in the back, in which case you must be sick Don't try to get by by saying "Hi, do you know a Monie? She used to live in my building. She's my friend." That's old You made up your mind to be unkind, that's your prerogative Too. Therefore I'm afraid I don't know you So don't persist trying to bother me, cause you're a stranger Is that so hard to understand? I'm speaking English ain't I? And I mustn't forget to mention I remember where I come from I know where I'm at and where I'm going to so, dumb one Whatever belongs to you, business-wise I suggest you go and mind it I don't give a damn how long it takes you to find it Remain in your own residency Cause I know Who and What I'm Supposed 2 B