Do Your Thang Lyrics - Weekend Warrior - Biz Markie

And you don't stop 

And you can't stop 

Yeah, yeah I like this 

If you 

If you 

Wanna know 

Wanna know 

The real deal, about the Biz 

A-say what, a-say what? 

Well I'm the Biz Markie 

And I'm the P. Diddy 

So you know what time it is 

A-come on 

If you 

If you 

Wanna know 

Wanna know 

The real deal, about the Biz 

A-say what? 

And that's comin' from me, the P. Diddy 

And you know what time it is, right 

So come on Diabolical 

Don't stop and don't you dare quit 

Just get on the mic, sit on the mic 

Spit on the mic and don't you dare quit! 

When I get on the mic, I guarantee 

There's no better MC than Biz Markie 

Everything I say or anything I do 

Will move yo' posse or your crew 

When you me hear me say and what I play 

Affects a lot of people in the strangest way 

Well I'm too cold to freeze, too hot to burn 

And I never miss a tag when it's my turn 

'Cause I can, rock the mic if you give me a chance 

Cool V'll cut the record, make you do the 'Biz Dance' 

I can flip the crowd with a wave of my hand 

I'm the Diabolical, "And you know this man" 

You can do your thang and any-thang you choose 

But please, please, leave my thang alone 

You can do your thang, and any-thang you choose 

So please, please, leave my thang alone 

I'm the court jester, the manifester 

I used to buy my clothes at A.J. Lester's 

The rhymerator, the beat creator 

Whack rappers get dropped like a hot potato 

The dime repeater, the MC greeter 

Knuckle bleeder, no need for a heater 

The only MC in the history 

Who didn't even have to R A P 

The bum destroyer, I'm comin' for ya 

Got took to court and didn't need a lawyer 

Make James Brown get down 

Made Beretta go get her 

Made Laverne and Bill Cosby 

Go change they sweaters 

I fought Mike Tyson, dropped him in 4 

Went to Fort Knox and kicked down the door 

Rocked seven continents with all this flow 

"And this is somethin' for the radi-oh " 

You can do your thang and any-thang you choose 

But please, please, leave my thang alone 

You can do your thang, and any-thang you choose 

So please, please, leave my thang alone 

Got ladies screamin' stranje stranje 

With the rhythm and rhymes and style that I display 

If rap was sex, I'd be a porno star 

With Sade, and Janet, in a menage-a-trois 

Merrily merrily, life is just a dream-ah 

First car, I ever had was a Beamer 

First girl, I ever had was a screamer 

I got out of breath and almost caught emphysema 

Put the party people in a state of shock 

While Biz compose songs like Sebastian Bach 

This is the end of this scenario 

Like Robin Harris, "I gotta go, gotta go!" 

You can do your thang and any-thang you choose 

But please, please, leave my thang alone 

You can do your thang and any-thang you choose 

So please, please, leave my thang alone 

You can do your thang and any-thang you choose 

But please, please, leave my thang alone 

You can do your thang, and any-thang you choose 

So please, please, leave my thang alone 

Leave my thang alone 

You leave my thang alone 

Leave my thang alone