It is with the heaviest of hearts that we have learned of the passing of Malik Taylor, more affectionately known as Phife Dawg, at the way-too-premature age of 45. A key member of the revered Native Tongues collective and founder of the beloved A Tribe Called Quest along with his kindred musical spirits Q-Tip, Ali Shaheed Muhammad, and Jarobi White, Phife was unequivocally the embodiment of the purest and most passionate spirit of hip-hop.
A poised and masterful lyricist blessed with an engaging cadence, the always-eloquent Phife possessed a unique penchant for delivering cleverly constructed lines that stick with you for a lifetime. And as the world mourns this unfathomable loss and celebrates the brilliance of the "Five Foot Assassin," we’re compelled to revisit a dynamic dozen of the emcee’s most memorable verses across his nearly thirty-year career.
In no way intended to serve as a comprehensive representation of his prolific body of work, these twelve selections are largely culled from Tribe’s discography, with a few of his noteworthy solo compositions included as well.
We hope you dig these nostalgic trips down memory lane as much as we have, as we honor the life, lyrics, and legacy of the late-great Phife Dawg.
12 Unforgettable Phife Dawg Verses:
“Buggin’ Out” (1991)
From A Tribe Called Quest’s The Low End Theory
Yo, microphone check one, two, what is this? / The five foot assassin with the roughneck business / I float like gravity, never had a cavity / Got more rhymes than the Winans got family / No need to sweat Arsenio to gain some type of fame / No shame in my game cause I'll always be the same / Styles upon styles upon styles is what I have / You wanna diss the Phifer but you still don't know the half / I sport New Balance sneakers to avoid a narrow path / Mess around with this you catch a size eight up your [ass] / I never half step cause I'm not a half stepper / Drink a lot of soda so they call me Dr. Pepper / Refuse to compete with BS competition / Your name ain't Special Ed so won't you seckle with the mission / I never walk the street thinking it's all about me / Even though deep in my heart, it really could be / I just try my best to like go all out / Some might even say yo shorty black you're buggin' out
“Electric Relaxation” (1993)
From A Tribe Called Quest’s Midnight Marauders
I like 'em brown, yellow, Puerto Rican or Haitian / Name is Phife Dawg from the Zulu Nation / Told you in the jam that we can get down / Now let's knock the boots like the group H-Town / You got BBD all on your bedroom wall / But I'm above the rim and this is how I ball / A gritty little something on the New York street / This is how I represent over this here beat
“1nce Again” (1996)
From A Tribe Called Quest’s Beats, Rhymes and Life
I fought my shit up on Linden in the one-nine-two / Forever writing never biting ain't shit else to do / Hoping to battle, but most MC's ain't ready yet / But if they utter one word then it's as good as set / You have MC's dropping bombs that's incredible / Some of the brothers, their styles are just despicable / As for me see I just do how I love to do / Try to deny me of my props then I'll be seeing you / Most of you suckers wanna be down for the tag along / The freaking fame, someone tell em that this shit ain't games / You gots to do this from your heart meaning your inner soul / And if it's real only then will you be on a roll / I try to stay on top my game there ain't no time to lose / Four albums deep as a Quester but still we payin' dues / So hear me out one time, you gots to be yourself / Cause if you ain't yourself you end up by your freaking self / I'm coming rugged with the Linden Boule type of slang / And yo, we'll see who can hang yo
“Steve Biko (Stir It Up)” (1993)
From A Tribe Called Quest’s Midnight Marauders
Linden Boulevard represent, represent / Tribe Called Quest represent, represent / When the mic is in my hand, I'm never hesitant / My favorite jam back in the day was Eric B. for President / Rude boy composer, step to me you're over / Brothers wanna flex, you're not Mad Cobra / MC short and black, there ain't no other / Trini-born black like Nia Long's grandmother / Tip and Sha they all that, Phife Dawg ditto / Honey tell your man to chill, or else you'll be a widow / Did not you know that my styles are top-dollar? / The Five-Foot Assassin knocking fleas off his collar / Hip hop scholar since being knee high to a duck / The height of Muggsy Bogues, complexion of a hockey puck / You better ask somebody on how we flip the script / Come to a Tribe show and watch the three kids rip
“La Schmoove” (1992)
From Fu-Schnickens’ F.U. Don't Take It Personal
Now here I go, once again with the ill flow / Other MCs that rap, their style is so-so / Phife Dawg was never the type that ever lacked skills / I just stay true to my roots and then I get ill / Twenty years of age but yet I still seek (KNOWLEDGE) / And this year, was so-called, my Senior year in (COLLEGE) / But I chose to pursue, in a field called music / And with some hype beats and breaks you know I won't refuse it / Get on the board lay down the track and I'll do ten laps / Pass the pen, pass the pad, and I'll kick nuff (RAPS) / Just come inside your jam and witness who is boss / And it won't be Tony Danza nor Diana Ross / As small as I am, I still can pack jams / Do a freestyle and step, but yet I still slam / Not trying to say that no one can get with me / Not only is it the lyrics I write, it's my delivery / Name one rapper that you know who has this high-strung voice / My name's Malik and I'm unique, in other words top choice / Nothing commercial 'bout this, it's mainly hardcore / Now that you got what you want, do you want more / Because I got more in store
“Check the Rhime” (1991)
From A Tribe Called Quest’s The Low End Theory
Now here's a funky introduction of how nice I am / Tell your mother, tell your father, send a telegram / I'm like an energizer cause, you see, I last long / My crew is never ever wack because we stand strong / Now if you say my style is wack that's where you're dead wrong / I slayed that body in El Segundo then Push it Along / You'd be a fool to reply that Phife is not the man / Cause you know and I know that you know who I am / A special shot of peace goes out to all my pals, you see / And a middle finger goes for all you punk MC's / Cause I love it when you wack MC's despise me / They get vexed, I roll next, can't none contest me / I'm just a fly MC who's five foot three and very brave / On job remaining, no home training cause I misbehave / I come correct in full effect have all my hoes in check / And before I get the butt the jim must be erect / You see, my aura's positive I don't promote no junk / See, I'm far from a bully and I ain't a punk / Extremity in rhythm, yeah that's what you heard / So just clean out your ears and just check the word
“Can I Kick It?” (1990)
From A Tribe Called Quest’s People’s Instinctive Travels and the Paths of Rhythm
Can I kick it? To my Tribe that flows in layers / Right now, Phife is a poem sayer / At times, I'm a studio conveyor / Mr. Dinkins, would you please be my mayor? / You'll be doing us a really big favor / Boy this track really has a lot of flavor / When it comes to rhythms, Quest is your savior / Follow us for the funky behavior / Make a note on the rhythm we gave ya / Feel free, drop your pants, check your ha-ir / Do you like the garments that we wear? / I instruct you to be the obeyer / A rhythm recipe that you'll savor / Doesn't matter if you're minor or major / Yes, the Tribe of the game we're a player / As you inhale like a breath of fresh air
“Jazz (We’ve Got)” (1991)
From A Tribe Called Quest’s The Low End Theory
Competition dem try fe come side way / But competition they must come straight way / Competition dem try fe come side way / But competition they must come straight way / How's about that, it seems like it's my turn again / All through the years my mic has been my best friend / I know some brothers wonder, can Phife really kick it? / Some even wanna dis me, but why sweat it? / I'm all into my music cos it's how I make papes / Try to make hits, like Kid Capri makes tapes / Me sweat another? I do my own thing / Strictly hardcore tracks, not a new jack swing / I grew up as a Christian so to Jah I give thanks / Collect my banks, listen to Shabba Ranks / I sing, and chat, I do all of that / It's 1991 and I refuse to come wack / I take off my hat to other crews that tend to rock / But the Low End Theory's here, it's time to wreck shop / I got Tip and Shah, so whom shall I fear / Stop look and listen, but please don't stare / So jet to the store, and buy the LP / On Jive/RCA, cassettes and CD's / Produced and arranged by the four-man crew / And oh shit, Skeff Anselm, he gets props too / Make sure you have a system with some fat house speakers / So the new shit can rock, from Bronx to Massapequa / Cos where I come from quality is job one / And everybody up on Linden know we get the job done / So peace to that crew, and peace to this crew / Bring on the tour, we'll see you at a theatre nearest you
“Dear Dilla” (2014)
Single
Hold tight, this ain't the last time I see you / Due time, that's my word imma see you / Frontin ass rappers now here stealin' intros / Posin like they hard when we know they all see through / Imma tell you Dilla why they lackin skills now / No stage presence, cadence, style / They livin off of hooks, skinny jean crooks / Pre-K lyrics, Why would i need a book? / I Reminisce reminisce, when Mobb dropped shook / Shan was down by law, such a good look / Nas God's Son his return was Stillmatic / Distortion To Static, You and Slum Fantastic / Thought I'd chop you out son see how you're doin / Come back to earth homie, hip hop is in ruins / I'm a third of the Tribe but Imma speak for the click / What up though, we miss you kid / Motor city say
“Scenario” (1991)
From A Tribe Called Quest’s The Low End Theory
Heyo, Bo knows this, (What?) and Bo knows that (What?) / But Bo don't know jack, cause Bo can't rap / Well what do you know, the Di-Dawg, is first up to bat / No batteries included, and no strings attached / No holds barred, no time for move fakin' / Gots to get the loot so I can bring home the bacon / Brothers front, they say the Tribe can't flow / But we've been known to do the impossible like Broadway Joe, so / Sleep if you want, NyQuil will help you get your Z's, troop / But here's the real scoop / I'm all that and then some, short, dark, and handsome / Bust a nut inside your eye to show you where I come from / I'm vexed, fuming, I've had it up to here / My days of paying dues are over, acknowledge me as in there (Yeah!) / Head for the border, go get a taco / Watch me wreck it from the jump street, meaning from the get-go / Sit back relax and let yourself go / Don't sweat what you heard, but act like you know
“Peace, Prosperity & Paper” (1996)
From A Tribe Called Quest’s Hits, Rarities & Remixes [Originally featured on the High School High soundtrack]
Here comes your royal highness, one of Queens finest / Believe me, honest, you know you can't stop it / Come on son, never leave your mic round me / True MC for real ask my man Shaheed / Strictly focused on what Im in this rap game for / Not for fame and screwing every whore after whore / With all that AIDS stuff going round / Tell me how that sound / Rather hit the studio and hear some beats that pound / Now, dont get me wrong I love honeys galore / But see hip-hop's my bread butter / Cause that's what I get paid for / See this is what I wanted / Allah helped me to get it / And if the beat is wicked / You know Malik will rip it / From the bottom of my heart / That’s where the love starts / The love for breakdancing / My love for the art / And with this love I do hip-hop from the soul / A real MC, who never sweats how many copies are sold / Yeah I want to go gold, platinum, uh-huh etceteras / But why put out some wackness when no one will respect ya / I’m staying true nuff respect to those that paved the way / From Bambaataa down to Shah; that be my DJ / With out my peeps I dont know how the hell Id make it, word / Sometimes I feel that my career is headed for the curb / One love for the lendin hand and giving all your help / Believing in me when I didn't believe in my own self / The Abstract with whom Im always making rugged tunes / Kid Hood restin in heaven, I hope to see you soon / I keep things hot and this year they're even hotter / Big Mu and Shah, one day I'll take my shahada / Out
“Lyrics to Go” (1993)
From A Tribe Called Quest’s Midnight Maruaders
I know it's been two years but see the Tribe was never fallin / Would have tried for singin but that stuff was not my callin / The mic is in effect so you know I'm never stallin / Walkin through the door and all them suckers started haulin / Talk a lot of trash but no one can seem to beat it / Pull out your microphone and watch the Phifer make you eat it / The MC's they get jealy when the girly's on my belly / Kick a slow dance like my brother R. Kelly (bust a rhyme) / Today's a hip-hop draft will I be top-seeded? (uhh) / Worked too frickin hard while all the rest were gettin weeded / Steady kickin styles so I can reach that other level (uh) / Don't worry about gettin gassed I push the pedal to the metal / Always wanted this cause it surely beats a scramble (right) / I'm Jordan with the mic, huh, wanna gamble? (mmm) / This I dedicate to all the honiest that be bogle-in / Cause at the end of the night y'know Malik will have his Trojans / But when it comes to nights like this I got lyrics to go