Tricks Up My Sleeve Songtext
von Common

I′m a Jake, I don't bake a cake
I′m not a cake daddy
You know the type be pullin' up in the Caddy
With a drop top, see when, I ho hop
I kick it to the bus stop
And it's goody goody gumdrops
I don′t be droppin′ squat but to the heads they think it's topnotch
I′m skippin' over every other dip as if it′s
Hop, hop, hop, hop, hop
Hop, hop, hop, hopscotch, watch

J-Ro: Hey yo man, hey man, look at ol' girl, she got a big ass
Man: Yo man, sic her
J-Ro: Hey man, hey, hey sweetheart, how you doin′?
Girl: I'm doin' fine
J-Ro: Oh, word, what′s your name?
Girl: Rachel
J-Ro: Why don′t you come over to the
House so I can put you in the buh-bam!


Aight, check it, you see I only wreck it for a second
You never see me naked
You see just where me pack it in my headroom
Or better yet my bedroom
Tippity toking and stuttering, as if she's Max Headroom
Redrum (redrum?), no, I ain′t a murderer
I'm Jake the Rake, yo, sorry if I′m hurtin' the
Vaginal area, fallopian tubes, and your cervix
I strongly recommend that for your gen you get some Jergens
I find it beneficial, not to force the issue
I just blow my shit and wipe it, see a head is like tissue
You should be throwin′ away, see a ho a day is essential
If you want a piece of the rock, trick, go to Prudential
'Cause I rock-a-bye a babe on the tree top
And when the wind blows, my dick'll get hard, the cradle will rock
I′m like the peacock, on NBC, nothin′ but cock
I put, brrrrrump it up, yo, like a Reebok
Hey, I don't sell junk, but I′m a junkyard dog
And what I do, it's a hazard, so call me Boss Hog
Or Rosco P. Co., ooh, pain
That′s the sound of the Caravan

Runnin' a train, yeah yeah
That′s the sound of the Caravan
Runnin' the train
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
In your eye
Yeah, yeah
Girls, grab your men, 'cause all I know I got tricks up my sleeve
I been told got tricks up my sleeve
Yo, Dark got tricks up my sleeve
J-Ro got tricks up my sleeve
You too got tricks up my sleeve
And look at that, got tricks up my sleeve
Talib got tricks up my sleeve
Wait, I got another trick up my sleeve


I′m not a Jake or a Rake or a ho
Though I got the mo′ better, I'm the head of the class
And if you ask me I′m not tryin' to be drastic
I′m not a bitch like Robin Givens
I'm not concerned about your plastic
Ask it, I′ll tell you what you wanna know
And if I tell you no, don't be all up on it, though
Frontin' so your friends won′t know
That you got the 86
So you call me a bitch, you get your kicks
For kicks and tricks or for kids
I don′t turn no tricks, I don't suck no dicks
See cops, I hops in the hubba-hubba-bubba
I′m like Al B. Stud
'Cause if I′m not your lover or your friend
Don't try to spend, waste your time
Tryin′ to get a taste of love, but you ain't tastin' mine
So find a new type, puss
′Cause if I don′t like you, you ain't gettin′ service, G
This ain't the drive-thru, drive by, way far
And everything′ll be groovy
Then you're pesterin′ me, yo, I'ma tell you like the Nubians
Move on, black brother, move on
You gotta move on, black brother, move on