Men In Black soundtrack – De La Soul - Chanel No. Fever lyrics

Written by: Kelvin Mercer, David Jolicoeur, and Vincent Mason

Hah, yeah.
Take you on a temperature rise.
Take you back to the fever.
(Take us back to the fever, y'all please, y'all please)

It's in the back y'all.
It's on the wall y'all.
It's in your head, but it's not the fever.
It's in the back y'all.
It's on the wall y'all.
It's in your head, but it's not the fever.
(Now, the following occured)

Now with the B-I double L bill,
We bill the par territories placing flags on terrains.
Now I said it was yours so snatch the world back from Wayne,
We did, universally sparked the lid.
Now these ladies love how we live,
Got'em caught, shit you already know looking so fly.
That the dog that played spiderweb your up aliasing here,
Sucker cats don't try to steer.
Near this, wish you could bring it this way,
Compliments of Wonder Y and my nigga David J.
So the do, re, mi, fa, sol, la,
Many reach to devour the stage, put the guts out the venue.
Ah, shut up in your face no need to continue.
I've been there, done that.
Received it, won that,
Yo stunned that, that's how you like To Sun frozed.
Keep my shit in harvest like Farmer John grows crops,
Hops, you'll need the whole ceiling to tops.
I saw the empire, set your liquid to fire,
Bim Blam set a flame to your fanny.
Davis the surname like Davis the Sammy,
A grammy, my concern is to earn for a little age,
Next time, next rhyme, next phase.

It's in the back y'all. (Back)
It's on the wall y'all. (Wall)
It's in your head, but it's not the fever.
It's in the back y'all. (It's in the back y'all)
It's on the wall y'all. (It's on the wall y'all)
It's in your head, but it's not the fever. (Come on)

Now put your hand on your hip,
(Now put your hand on your hip)
And let your backbone slip.
(And let your backbone slide)
Now put your hand up on your hip,
(Now put your hand up on your hip)
And let your backbone slip for the fever.

Hey, ladies and gents reintroducing to you,
Shootin' shit like hot asses at the sip of bean stew.
Super fat come the visitor zoo,
Peace to my homewood niggas and my man Tofu.
(I fell in love)
I'm through evil that man do,
Get some ass on the side so my love can shine through,
Pull a cigar with crew, lean back and let it soak,
Your holdin' on to my twelve dollar smoke.
Man, it was Mase who laced the beat from up out the Earth,
Leaving brothers hipnotized like Ootney Fonsworth.
But I'm hip but no tized than that, clap to the break of dawn,
Dada, wonder why it's hotter than hot,
Why not knee, my Steve got niggas on the dick.
They want to join the click.
I hope that ass get a record deal.
So they can feel what I feel,
To overstand that ring ring, how you do is real.
You must be from Italy 'cause all you do is roam,
Microphone to microphone, lookin' for home.
I write a poem to make the publicists flock the prone cop,
China on stage so I don't need a spotlight,
Should be tight like tupperwear supperwear, drawers of socks.
Sippin' on gray pot yo scratch the pork chops,
Cause nothin' here drops.
We're goin' up, up, up, up, up, up, up.

It's in the back y'all. (Back y'all)
It's on the wall y'all. (Wall)
It's in your head, but it's not the fever.
(It's not the fever)
It's in the back y'all. (Back y'all)
It's on the wall y'all. (Wall)
It's in your head, but it's not the fever.
(It's not the fever)
It's in the back y'all. (Back y'all)
It's on the wall y'all. (Wall)
It's in your head, but it's not the fever.
(It's not the fever)

Huh, huh, huh, huh, huh,
Huh, huh, huh, huh, huh, huh,
It's the fever...