The Dude - Quincy Jones

You're constantly askin me for somethin And when I say no you get mad, and you be wonderin Am I tryna act funny (no!) about some money I got you baby, you wanna share it with Sonny Well it ain't that much, and what I got I really need it I can't be givin Diana my dollars like Billy Dee did Keep your own hair fixed, get your own nails done Make your own money in case I don't have none But maybe you're hopin I'm a star and you might feel I'll pay a note on your car or a light bill Didn't catch it when you asked me did I come in a benz And did I have enough room for you & some of your friends, but Then it hit me You was bout tryna get some money, yup straight bullshit me (no!) Tryna see what you can get, even though we just met And you ain't even gave ya boy no pussy yet But if I asked you to suck on my dick, bitch Would ya? (oh, no, I can't do that!) And if I asked you to help on my rent, bitch Could ya? (oh, no, I can't do that!) You like to smoke all the time All my weed, ya eyes lower than mine But shit I ain't trippin, I bought a couple of dranks To get you drunk, dig in ya pussy and get my knuckles to stank A couple of bucks for your tank, yeah I'm cool with that But after I give you this cigarette and you keep askin for shit I'mma ask you if you think it is a lack of respect To pull out my dick and put it on the back of your neck Cuz see these women'll wait, bitches'll beg And 50, 60 dollars just might get you some head But I'd rather spend my money on some weed and wine It seems pussy should be free, ain't no need in buyin it Why don't you go half with me? But just like I thought, you was out to bullshit me Tryna see what you can get, even though we just met And you still ain't gave ya boy no pussy yet But if I asked you to suck on my dick, bitch Would ya? (oh, no, I can't do that!) And if I asked you to rub on your clit, bitch Could ya? (oh, no, I can't do that!) Now you asked me to buy you some gear You said you was tired of wearin the same bullshit all year Them big ol titties and ass is what you use to catch Niggas to buy expensive clothes with shoes to match I'll get some booze and a sack and we can hit the Kings Flea market shop till we drop, I'll probably get you a ring Around your collar want some dollars, hell I'll just foot the bill Give you a new pearl necklace and some polish for your grill I'm glad that I can satisfy the women with needs But when you want too much I'll put Jimmy up in you then leave I got three minutes left on my phone card Times are tougher than my dick when I'm on hard Can't do nothin for a bitch who can't do nothin for herself But you tryna squeeze a nigga until there's nothin left Tryna see what you can get, even though we just met And you still ain't gave ya boy no pussy yet But if I asked you to suck on my dick, bitch Would ya? (oh, no, I can't do that!) Or help me to get my transmission fixed, bitch Could ya? (oh, no, I can't do that!)

I can't stand (I can't stand) stupid bitches I keep away, they ain't ridin (my bone) Have no plans (no plans) with stupid bitches I tend to stray from stupid bitches

You can ride all day long Another Myke Diesel production (Mike Jones) But you'll never catch Mr. Jones He's got a gang that's far too strong (Ice Age, Ice Age, Ice Age) Your friends know it, that's why you're all alone Chasing a man you can't see (Mike Jones) So just walk away and let him be He's got a shotgun so go back home (Who? Mike Jones Who? Mike Jones) 'Cause you'll never get Mr. Jones (Mike Jones, Mike Jones) I'm back, my music tracks about to sell another mil' My pants stay saggin' from them hundred dollar bills These haters hate but they don't really wanna see the steel These haters hate but they don't really wanna see the steel Had a million in my bank before Asylum bought the deal Had a million in my bank before Asylum bought the deal Before I came I just say the streets wouldn't feel The - that I'm spittin', the - that's real But now I'm like Melo, I'm the king of the hill American dream, I'm livin' that for real Eleven cars later - tell me how you feel Took the diamonds off my teeth And put 'em on my Phantom grill (smile, ha ha) You can ride all day long (Mike Jones) But you'll never catch Mr. Jones He's got a gang that's far too strong (Ice Age, Ice Age, Ice Age) Your friends know it, that's why you're all alone Chasing a man you can't see (Mike Jones) So just walk away and let him be He's got a shotgun so go back home (Who? Mike Jones Who? Mike Jones) 'Cause you'll never get Mr. Jones (Mike Jones, Mike Jones) I used to get dissed by the chicks in the club Now they want to rub my belly, wanna show your boy some love They see me iced up, they be like, "What's up?" Try to jack me if you wanna, I'ma leave you - up Used to roll hatchback, now I'm Cadillac and Benz Used to roll hatchback, now I'm Cadillac and Benz I used to have homies, now I'm like, "- friends" 'Cause even back then all they did was pretend Now I got my own label Ice Age and I'm boss I'm the mayor of this town with the key to that vault All my cars black on black except the one with thick gloss Got another white on white I call that - rick Rick Ross (Ross) You can ride all day long (Mike Jones) But you'll never catch Mr. Jones He's got a gang that's far too strong (Ice Age, Ice Age, Ice Age) Your friends know it, that's why you're all alone (hahahahahaha) Chasing a man you can't see (you can't see me, baby) So just walk away, and let him be He's got a shotgun so go back home (Who? Mike Jones Who? Mike Jones) 'Cause you'll never get Mr. Jones (Mike Jones, Mike Jones) Hey Now make it rain Hey Now make it rain Hey Now make it rain American Dream, album and movie on the way, baby

(Rhythm is both the song's manacle and it's demonic charge. It is the original breath, it is the whisper of unremitting demand. "What do you still want of me?", says the singer. "What do you think you can still draw from my lips?" Exact presence that no fantasy can represent. Purveyor of the oldest secret, alive with the blood that boils again, and is pulsing where the rhythm is torn apart. How your singer's blood is incensed at the depth of sound. Lacerations echo in the mouth's open erotic sky where dance together the lost frenzies of rhythm and an imploring immobility. Ladies and gentlemen, Miss Grace Jones. Jones the Rhythm.) Slave! Slave to the rhythm Dance to the rhythm Axe to wood in ancient times Man machine, production line The fire burns, with heartbeats strong Sing out loud, the chain gang song Never stop the action Keep it up, keep it up Never stop the action Keep it up, keep it up Slave to the rhythm Dance to the rhythm, The rhythm... master... master... Never stop the action, keep it up Never stop the action Keep it up, keep it up. Slave to the rhythm, work to the rhythm, Dance to the rhythm, live to the rhythm. Slave to the rhythm, Dance to the rhythm, live to the rhythm, Slave to the rhythm, work... to the rhythm, To the rhythm, work to the rhythm, to the rhythm. Slave, slave, To the rhythm, to the rhythm, to the rhythm. (Grace) Oh that's weird... (Grace Jones, welcome) Thank you Paul. And if you're wondering what's wrong with my voice, I just choked on my saliva. So... (Now obviously you're in the Bond movie.)