Yes Yes by The Mountain Brothers Lyrics

Quote from the song “Yes Yes” by The Mountain Brothers

A yes, yes, yes
DJ's all play
Yes, yes, yes
20 times a day
Yes, yes, yes
Make your girl say
Yes, yes, yes
"Whooo!"

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Credits, Cast & Crew of Song “Yes Yes”

• Produced: CHOPS
• Release Date: January 1, 2003

Perfect Lyrics of the Song “Yes Yes” Released in 2003

[Favorite Song Lyrics: song “Yes Yes” with perfect lyrics for karaoke]

[Hook: Chops]

A yes, yes, yes
DJ's all play
Yes, yes, yes
20 times a day
Yes, yes, yes
Make your girl say
Yes, yes, yes
"Whooo!"

[Verse One: Chops]

Heads that used to front, now they breaking out the knee pads
The way I'm coming/cumming, make your hair stand up like Cameron Diaz
Have you in rehab with these raps
Think you got punchlines, I'm throwing haymakers with no rematch
Hot to death like a fire to stop your breath
I'm not the ref I can't call it
Fake players pretending there's Benjamins in your wallet
We got the solid milk chocolate
When cats is fronting with nothing but pocket lint
I got a doctorate in rocking shit with mad accomplishment
My style is Turbo in Breaking, ain't no stopping it
Chops, apocalypse optometrist
Turning non believers to cheer leaders
Now they jumping on the jock and shit
The consequence? Mo' clout
Confidence like who ever came up with the names for Mos Def and No Doubt
I'm the cat your kids will tell their grandchildren about
150 years from now you'll still be hearing 'em shout

[Hook]

[Verse Two: Chops]

So let me demonstrate, this bro's got sick flows like when you menstruate
The Magnificent Butcher's in the house and 'bout to renovate
Your trend imitate, so I then innovate
Incinerate rappers and serve 'em up just like a dinner plate
What? Me and the mic you can't fade us
Signed a contract with Acura cause I'm the stuff legends are made of
I got what it takes plus I'ma take what you got
Straight blazing the spot, Chops is able to drop
So hot that you can cook on it, shit I wrote the book on it
Vain chicks staring at my tip wondering how they'd look on it
But I know the deal, hip hop's god of gamblers
Chops, showing kids how to spit like Adam Sandler
Sitting in your Pampers I'm funky like clothes hampers
I got the soul and grammar to make ya go bananas
No lights, no cameras, no Solid Gold dancers
Can I kick it?
Motherfucker you know the answer

[Hook]

[Verse Three: Chops]

Like Common I Used To Love H.E.R
But then we spent some time apart
The bitch came running back
Knowing not to try and start
When I rhyme in the park you memorize my lines by heart
Cause I Move The Crowd like Rakim blowing a giant fart
Compromise the art? I'm not the one having it
Chops got hip hop on lock like a gun cabinet
Immaculate craftsmanship like Hong Kong action flick
The style you're kicking is wack on some John Saxon shit
Put me to the test? Best put that to rest
Commence to dropping gems on your head, leaving permanent dents
You need to keep up on current events
Cause y'all shit is dead and you don't even know it, like the Sixth Sense
You gassed like Rayon
I got raps to last all day long
Straight lyricist
Type of cat that player's hate on
So while y'all flossing in your sequins and rayon
Your jawns leaving the table like, "They're playing my song."

[Hook]