 Funk Your Head Up » Lyrics [+ Adăuga +] |
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1. _ Intro 2
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2. _ Bi-lingual Teaching
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3. _ Introduction To The Funk
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4. _ The P.m.r.c. Id
I know, and you know
That no matter what we done
We'd like to tell everybody how we feel about it all
And if we've offended anybody in any way
We don't give a shit!!
Hahahaha kick it!
Her ass smell funkier than a dog on a thundery night.
more free lyrics |
5. _ Intermission
[kool keith]
Ahhh... it's time to relax
For all the people out there, it's time to take a break
A little intermission
Go urinate, get a little popcorn, stuff like that
[ced gee]
Ahh yeah, or get that quart of old gold
Or a banana
[kool keith]
If you wanna jerk off or two
Anything you know
[ced gee]
Or a cup of coffee
Whatever turns you on, take that break
Yeahhh...
And right about now
[kool keith]
We're going back to the funk!
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6. _ The Old School
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7. _ Message From The Boss
[kool keith]
You wanna know my business? i got things to do
People to meet, people to see
Very important - matters to turn to
A waste of time for me to try to burn you
And talk a minute, you're not worth a conversation
I speak intelligently, with information
Goin and flowin and showin, you're still growin
Adolescent -- with a childish mind
Your brain is small, plus it's hard to find
I need a microscope, to see a two-cent brain
That don't think, when they rob and steal
And rape and kill -- and murder their loved ones
Now put your brain in the guillotine
Slice it to cold cuts, you're goin nuts ? cell
You wanna low rate me?
You're better off in hell, feel the flame
Fire burn roast and toast
Let me hear you scald, while i brag and boast
I keep your brain on stand-by
Cause it's the message, comin straight from the boss!
[ced gee]
Your attention please, come on, let me try this
This beat is funky -- so i just
Made up some rhymes that are hyper than hyperspace
Ced gee will kick bass, eliminate
Rappers who think quick slick with a few tricks
Can't be quick fixed if they try this
Man, and, aiyyo, i have the right to be
On any stage and mic someone can pass to me
Cause, i'm in there, and i swear
I'm like vladimir, no one bet-ter
Step to me, get to me, or pes-ter me
Confess to me, guessin me
Adressin me, be less than me, or testin me
Because, it only brings out the best in me
Soul, no - here's what you really need to do
Instead of battlin you need to really improve
Our race, and every other race
Bring em together -- and let's face
The problems, that we need to be solvin
People are dyin, starvin, robbin
Bein discriminated from different jobs
And things like that so think about that
We have a tool to use that they call rap
So, yo, let's use it, not abuse it
And in the long run, we have improved this
Situation and turned into a positive
They doubted this, so we're proud of this
Institution we invented of course
That's why this message, is comin from the boss!
[kool keith]
Yeah ced.. {*echoes*}
Once again, i hear your garbage on my radio
Left to right, and comin through my stereo
I turn it off, go off without show-off
Blow off mc's who can't talk or read or write
Or learn, stutter - i think you need to go ?rift?
But watch me shift
The smarter i get, the dumber you get
The better i get, the wacker you get
Ha ha hah, i gotta laugh - mc's are very funny to me
And on easter, they're like a bunny to me
Hoppin around, without a education
Formation, results in occupation
Better skills, how to sign a application
For a job, but you'd rather be a slob
A parasite, eating corn off the cob
Beggin everybody, you got a dollar for crack?
I'll pay you back
Wednesday thursday friday saturday's here
Where's my money?
It ain't funny with a pipe in your face
For a fracture, last time the cops smacked ya
For hittin your moms and pops
You need a shake in your brain, adolescent
I'm a vet, you're juvenile, and driven wild, meanwhile
You look stupid and petty, and now senile
How's time in jail without bail?
Now you're up for sale, you're like a prostitute
Another man's wife, on the la-la tip
Think about it again
Cause it's the message, comin straight from the boss!
more free lyrics |
8. _ Go 4 Yourz
[kool keith]
Yes indeed one time
This is for all you stupid niggaz out there
Talkin that dumb doo doo weak shit
We comin live and direct
Straight in your motherfuckin face with some pure raw shit
And we gon' get busy, like this
It's been a while, since i seen a good street fight
A good fight, throwin fist to fist
Blow for blow, toe for toe, yeah
Put your gun down, and give a brother a fair fight
Smitty with a left jab, no ak
Automatic pistol, put it the hell away
Bring out a baseball bat for your black ass
Cincinatti, beatin down on oakland
But i'll be the referee, while nose get broken
And basket broken, and brains get beat down
Bronx style, buckwild, nobody should jump in
Just stand the hell way back, before you get slapped back
No posse to run back, the gangsta hard talk
Braggin on the mic, you shootin cops
But when you in a cell, shootin stops
Look at the murderers, third degree psychos
Waitin to get hanged, and next on death row
Behind the steel bars, you're froze and can't throw
But back on the streets with a tool you are still hard
Callin yourself god, and hangin with bodyguards
But look at the snitch, your whole face is scarred
Go 4 yourz
Chorus: tim dog (repeat 3x)
You gotta go 4 yourz {suckers} go 4 yourz {suckers}
[ced gee]
Yo listen up, a lot of rappers wanna be hard
Walkin around with fifty-seven bodyguards
Armed with guns, crazy automatics
Wearin black, but they're faggots
Cause when the gods are gone, and the guns are gone
And they're one on one with someone
Time to put the fist up straight into action
Blow for blow for real satisfaction
Hit the deck the results are fatal
They can't throw cause they're not able
To kick out a left hook and follow with the overhand, left
But duck cause you'll miss he'll land, a bomb
And put you on the canvas
You wish your boys were there but they're in kansas
+back on the block+ like quincy jones makin cash
While you're on the road, goin out like a jackass
So when you're out there, perpetratin fantasies
You need to stop it, and face reality
And grow up like a man who understands
Be yourself, never give a damn
About who accepts you, because it's only you
Who choose..
Chorus
[tim dog]
Gotta go 4 yourz, you gotta go get yourz, get yourz
Get yourz, get yourz
Go 4 yourz, go 4 yourz
Go, go, go, go! (gone!)
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9. _ Blast From The Past
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10. _ Mc Champion
And now..
You're mc champions, ultra-magnetic
"i am sealing off the dimensional window
Closing the hole in the fabric of the cosmos like a scar"
[ced gee]
Ahh yeah
One two, one two
This is agent ble-ced gee
Ultramagnetic's in full effect
We in here droppin freestyle rhymes like mc champions
So keith, take it away
[kool keith]
Power compactor, brain distractor
Droppin a bomb, right in your anal connector
Sector, vector, the lyric inspector
X-ray vision, powerful spector
Lexor, mechtor, egor
Ah yes yes y'all, and you don't stop
The rhythm i drop to hit the top to make your swing go pop
As i flow, pick up the micro'
Poem get hypo, tension as original
Lyrical miracle, back to attack one
Black one, white one, green one or blue one
Colorful sweet rhymes, i'm back to do one
Or two of you, three of you, or four of you
Five or six or seven, eleven of you
Wack mc's get back in the last line
And wait on the mic, you think i'm ready to pass mine
Up in the brougham, with clever ability
I know when to sting a brain, just like i'm a killer bee
Hittin em hard with the rhyme as the flame throw
Hardcore, softcore, and even the rainbow
Polka-dot mc's, african, indians
Spanish-american, mixed with panamanian
Arabian nubian, speak in siberian
Japanese chinese, and regular mc's
Preachers, teachers, and negative creatures
I roll and kick a rhyme, you grab your mic back
Sidewind and rattle like a snake i strike back
I chew your brain and, the monkey behind you
Your company management, the dummy who signed you
To pick up the slack but the hype ain't sellin many
Records and tapes cause your rap ain't tellin any
Metaphor phrases, things that amazes
Me the next man, no biter or innovator
With lyrical instinct, you look like a duplicator
Bitin my style, nibblin on the big jock
With rhymes so tight, they keep your brain in the headlock
Count the one two three four five
I'm like like pushwagons, tag-teamin your dome
I'm just a champion
[ced gee]
Ah yeah, yo keith, bust this
I got some freestyle rhymes too
I'ma warm up, then i'ma get deep
Bust it, check this out
Yo
Poetic genius, kickin metaphors
Ced gee is the big boss, makin it better for
A pile of them, mc's again, i'm raggin them
So listen up my friend
I'm rappin the manifest, leapin some blind guess
The type of hype i select, when i rap come correct
My mic is on, and it's loaded, and it's lethal
Here's a dose, a taste of my potential
My super menu wind you bend you sends you
To watch a brother like me, continue
Out on the warpath, flashback, sit back
Kick back with that, dope rap attack
Those that can't rap, with that weak rap
Need to get back, and just to add to that
Fact, with words from the knowledge tip
My rhymes are swift, i have the gift
Like hocus-pocus, ced gee, and i'm still on
The mic is loaded with rhymes that flame on
Now you know just what i am creatin
We call it megafunk, a plan stated
I'm verbally passin, rhymes are outlastin
Waxin to smashin and kickin more ass and
With intensity, ced gee has got to be
Schoolin a wannabe, rappers who try to be
Like me, c-e-d
To flow on the mic and show no mercy
I'm a champion, i'm undefeated
My rep is strong, no hype is ever needed
To grow and grow, to grow and grow
To grow and grow, and grow and grow
To grow and grow, and grow and grow
Rap taller than buckwheat's afro,
I'm a champion
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11. _ Bust The Facts
{"here's a little story that must be told.."}
Ahh yes yes y'all, and you don't stop
{"here's a little story that must be told.."}
You're listenin to the sounds, of the best mc, in the world..
Koooooooooooooool keith! {*echoes*}
{"go off, and go off.."}
[kool keith]
I got a flyer in my hand, bambaataa with cold crush
The place is packed, with johnny wa and rayvon
Lovely ladies smellin sweet, with a lot of avon
Jazzy jay by my side, charlie chase behind me
Flash and theodore, super cuts that blind me
"catch a groove" is the rhythm, spinnin back and forth
From the east and the valley, swingin back up north
Towards the south bronx, euceda park and webster
The speakers are pumpin, power bass is thumpin
With the ultramega amp, keepin pep up, jumpin
From side to side, the double meters'll peak
They had some good mc's, a lot of them, they was weak
They no style with no metaphor, no voice to speak
Melle mel had the best rhymes, rankin with caz
Kool moe tried to get down, but i made him sit down
With that metaphor quickness, you bite and you bit this
Stop and go turn, see the flame and go burn
To ashes to ashes, dust to dust
Seven years later toy you still crusty crust
Your old rhymes are rust, very dirty and dusty
And under your arms you're kickin power and musty
Get out of my way, and let the rhythm path roll
Let me run up the charts, freak a rhyme turn gold
While you're listenin, i throw a buzz in your ear
Bust the facts!
{"yes yes y'all.."} {"innovative.."}
{"let's rock, get bigger.."}
{"yes yes y'all.."} {"innovative.."}
{"let's rock, get bigger.."}
{"yes yes y'all.."} {"innovative.."}
{"let's rock, get bigger.."}
Now swing your partner around, dosey-dosey
Like musical chairs and ring around the rosie
The party you pace see, kool herc with j.c.
The herculoids battle, the disco twins
Funky rhymes with breakbeats, the dj spins
For the l brothers, steppin right in the scene
Mean gene was maxin, rockin rob went to work
While the tables would turn, the old needles used to jerk
With the belt drive, technics and b-1's
With the orange light shinin, the red on d-1's
Direct drive and nova, i'm chillin with g.l.o.b.e.
Mr. biggs and pow-wow, monk and superman
Pullin out that olde e, that funky funky 40 ounce
Ikey c from cosmic, the bass bottom bounce
Red alert in the booth, the t-connection to mix
Silly rabbit.. you know my style has trix
To go on, to the next line, to the break of dawn
While i move up step, to the early early morn
With a hip-hop drink and some rhyme popcorn
Never smokin or sniffin or ever jokin or riffin
Because it's time to plex more, and rhyme fantastic
Donald rock and whipper whip, neither rapper was plastic
Back in the days, you had to be so sarcastic
To stretch out a rhyme, and make it double elastic
You learn new jack, step back and be wack
You know what time it is boy, and every mic i smoke
Bust the facts!
{"yes yes y'all.."} {"innovative.."}
{"let's rock, get bigger.."}
{"yes yes y'all.."} {"innovative.."}
{"let's rock, get bigger.."}
{"yes yes y'all.."} {"innovative.."}
{"let's rock, get bigger.."}
{"yes yes y'all.."} {"innovative.."}
{"let's rock, get bigger.."}
Later on at the boys club, while tom excel
I got a name for your brain that surely rings a bell
Patti duke had the nice hands, swift with billy boy
Playin james brown records, you stupid you silly boy
Bongo rockin, hard where the rhythm go
You fake and pass, busy bee give and go
To the aj scratch, a funky beat that matched
With a two-second break, that was hard to catch
Dst was mixin, slicin with his elbows
Freakin the wheels, loopin rhymes, here we go
To the master faster, speed up and go faster
Turn my jvc to mega power and blast the
Mario tape, yes the disco king
With the b-side the funky drums, no new jack swing
Happy rappers with polka dots, were bound to get stuck
You had the zulus the nine crew, you're pushin your luck
The casanovas was maxin all scheamin to duck
You had the black spades, plus the savage skulls
Gangbangin was over, neither crew is exist
They got a job and a wife, a pretty woman to kiss
So on the rhymes kept rollin, straight up into disco
Eddie cheeba was sweet g, and back up to cisko
And freaker islam, with the great love squids
Spinnin high-top beats, can you check it, you dig
Kool keith out smokin, my lyrics are hot
Bust the facts!
{"innovative.."}
{"let's rock, get bigger.."}
{"yes yes y'all.."} {"innovative.."}
{"let's rock, get bigger.."}
{"yes yes y'all.."} {"innovative.."}
{"let's rock, get bigger.."}
{"yes yes y'all.."} {"innovative.."}
{"let's rock, get bigger.."}
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12. _ Murder And Homicide
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13. _ Moe Love On The 1 And 2
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14. _ Pluckin Cards
it doesn't take long for the nightmarish news
To sweep the world like a shockwave.
The mighty man of steel, once the superchampion, admired by billions
Has proclaimed himself a wildman.
Afraid of going on an uncontrollable rampage at any moment.
[kool keith]
Hey yo stupid, you thought i was over
Living like oscar, big bird and grover
I'm the x the man the first challenger
I keep rhymes in place like bob gallagher
Fittin, and in the chair i'm sittin
Rappers know i'm kool, rappers know i'm keith
Like charlie brown, good grief
I see rappers i know they turned african
I just pedal my bike, then i laugh again
I pull the girls with thread and one string
They say i'm steppin to them for one thing
But i don't think so, you think so, really?
Tapes is wack and new mc's sound silly
I hate to criticize, i have a problem
In this school wack rappers i'll solve them
They wanna be like ultra on the jizock
Try to act like they not but on the kizock
Suckin, takin, aw-ll be slurpin
Comical bums your wack jams ain't workin
You ain't got the style to rock no man
You get a pound from me, but with no hand
Diss em, i'm not the one miss ferguson
Cold stupid as hell like george jefferson
Yeah, you dummies better be careful
I pick up rappers and throw away a handful
Yes... i'm
Pluckin everyone's card [steppin to the man]
(repeat 3x)
Twinkle twinkle twinkle little star
Behind those glasses i know who you are
You racer x, here's brother speed
You dissin james? he's chicken feed
He can't rap or clap or make a feet tap
How bout monie and nikki they both bullcrap
I see light in my lamp, but not on the mic
How could i diss myself in front of dolemite
You wanna preach and teach and be a rebel
Then underline disguise and be the devil
Call yourself god, can you make it rain
Can you tell me how or what i'm thinkin in my brain
I'm not the bighead kid who wanna show off
I just pick up the mic and then i blow off
Dirt, crumbs, any type of feather
You ain't genuine, toyin real leather
Pleather, coming out in the weather
You rap on r&b tracks and whatever
Hi uncle tom, go head entertain
Dance and get sweaty, and let me use my brain
I think twice about the big bow tie
You wearin one? i wanna know why
I see fools all dressed in tuxedos
And at the grammy's, a bag of fritos
Dumb people wonder, dumb people think
Just to be large, do they have to wear a mink
Drive a cadillac, drive a benzo
A rolls royce with a funky testarosso
I'd rather stay in new york and not hollywood
Fool, i'm
Pluckin everyone's card [steppin to the man]
(repeat 4x)
You takin off and you're gold and for what?
Because you wanna be down and so what?
You buy your african beads from koreans
Africans, you walkin by human beings
You don't know, you're so stupid
Take the books you read you're still stupid
Learn, see the rappers i burn
You're coming next, it's your turn
Let me sprinkle salt, let me sprinkle pepa
On doo-doo, and whatever
You wanna speak on the x, then let's go with this
I know i'm talented, good, and such a pro at this
Trade, skill, future my job
And at lunch i eat a rap shishkabob
You wanna spin with the real and make a big deal
Yes, you're in the showcase showdown
I hope you're ready to rock and come blow down
Huff, and puff, like the big bad wolf
I'm not the man concerned with that story
Look out, watch, you're three feet and sinkin
The tribe's are lost and everyone's breath stinkin
[ahhh, to the crossroad]
Look at one man carry many loads
I gotta move enlighten a sleepy world
Remember, i'm
Pluckin everyone's card [steppin to the man]
Pluckin everyone's card (yell at the top of my lungs) [steppin to the man]
(repeat 3x)
Hahahahaha, you can't even focus the energies of your own body
How can you hope to tuffle the god of war, against his will?
Pluckin everyone's card (yell at the top of my lungs)
(repeat 3x)
You're one of those peace loving folk singers
Errrrr, let her contend with this...
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15. _ Stop Jockin Me
[woman] hellooh?
[voice] hey, hey woman where was you at last night?
[tim dog]
Ahhh yeahhh
Right about now we're gonna get into somethin real smooth
This is the story about a man and a woman
The man tried to kick, the woman fronts
He gets large, now she wants
Let's look in on the story
As this man's tellin this girl, about herself
Yeah..
[kool keith]
See girl, you look stupid now
And i gotta tell you somethin straight in your face
You played yourself like a big-time toy from mattel
Tryin to flaunt the little bit of what you got
Why don't you go on over there and let him diss you again?
See your girlfriends laughin and lookin at me at the same time?
But right now i'm gettin ready to wash my hands
And get all the dirt off, yeah
Back in the days, see you never had the time
To come to my house, and let me tell you that i rhyme
You always made excuses, such as
"i'm sleepin right now, call me back," no nevermind
Cause you and your friends are very hard to find
Lisa, pamela, angela, renee
The girls who shoplift, and steal everyday
Lookin for benz's, food and a hamburger
Just to connive and rob a brother for cheese
That ain't right girl, in your fantasy world
I call you once - you never dialed back
Twice - you never dialed back
Saturday morning, live, i'm on soul train
Talkin to don cornelius
Saturday night, my phone rings
Saturday night, i won't answer
Saturday night, my phone rings again
Saturday night, i don't answer
Finally, i cold screened the call - hello?
"hello? hey keith, it's me baby. i miss you!
Where you been at all this time? whatchu been doin?
Hey you think we can hang out tonight?
Y'know, we really gotta talk.
You still workin in the grocery store?" please!
{*keith hangs up phone*} stop jockin me girl
Chorus: {*singers*} + ced gee
Stop jockin me girl.. (you're jockin me baby)
Stop jockin me girl! (slow down, you're clockin me baby)
Stop jockin me girl.. (you're jockin me baby)
Stop jockin me girl! (yeah, you're jockin me baby)
[tim dog]
Ha ha ha hah
Here we have the same scenario, but different people
We have a young man who's been followed by a secret admirer
She too once fronted on the rap
Let's look in on his story, and see what happens
[ced gee]
Uh uh baby you know what? you really need to check yourself
Yo i find this is sad, that here we are in the 20th century
And y'know you still practicin these primitive tactics
Y'know jockin a brother when he gets large
Check yourself baby
Let me step over here and do my thing..
.. like this!
Yo b-boy comrades, this girl she keeps jockin me
Regardless what i say, she's constantly clockin me
Houndin me like a pest, callin like she's obsessed
I tell her she'll never get, me but she'll never let
The situation rest for a day or two
We're goin on tour, trev said, "i'll bet she'll follow you"
And boy was he right, i know you're probably wonderin
This girl like a groupie, followed me into london
Show for show, state to state, night after night
Hotel to hotel, and even the airports
She tried to play me close
Now could you believe, she tried to play high-post
At one time, before i made a record
She wasn't sure it was me, so then, she had to check it
She turned on the video, show on the tv
She couldn't believe it was me, on the big screen
Performin the hit, yeah the record was kickin brother
From that day on, the girl, tried to smother
Me like a blanket, but i wasn't havin it
I wasn't a grocery, and she wasn't baggin it
So i took my time, looked her in the eye
And said -- stop jockin me girl
Chorus: {*singers*} + ced gee
Stop jockin me girl.. you're daily jockin me
(you're jockin me baby)
Stop jockin me girl! ahh girl, you're a hooker
(you're jockin me baby)
Stop jockin me girl.. girl i can't, get with you
(you're jockin me baby)
Stop jockin me girl! (you're jockin me baby)
Said won't ya, get away from me..
[tim dog]
So there you have it
Typical situation of jockin
First you fronted, now you want it
For all you girlies thinkin about jockin somebody
I suggest you don't do it, or you will get dissed
Peace out
more free lyrics |
16. _ Poppa Large
I get in shape and do my physical fitness
Your head's numb, so your brains a miss this
Pick 'em up, eat 'em up, pick 'em up, beat 'em up
Pick 'em up pimplehead, pick 'em up picky
I roll wit globs and i come real sticky
Ripping the mic, i plug it up in your ears
Crazed and brewer. i'm coming out like beers
Like rheingold, miller, coors, and buds
I'm a eat 'em wit popcorn and treat 'em like suds you duds
Coming out the wick wack, wicky, wickable wack
Black jack, that's a fact, writing exact behind your back
The funk rhyme to master, blaster
Kicking up in a brainstorm, rainstorm
Rap storm, rap form
Rap time, rap rhyme
Rap class, i'm here to fail and to pass
To continue, from the more, hype tip
I roll and rock, rock and roll
Jazz and pop, rhythm and blues
Dance and fusion, pain confusion
Look at the lights, what a night on the town
I'm poppa large, big shot on the east coast(4x)
Now i'm back to funk, freak the funk
Hype the funk, swipe the funk and all that junk
I get busy on 'em, communicate wit the world
Man, woman, a baby boy and a girl
Poppa large looking out the pawn shop
Taking stroud while your face and arms drop
Stop, look, learn to read, learn to write
Learn to talk, learn to walk
And watch your step though, i'm hype and ripe though
Kleptomaniac, my rhyme is psycho
A ricky ricardo, a guy lombardo
Sporting a ragtop, an el dorado
Step into hollywood, i'm screening the boulevards
The rhymes is gain type, i'm ready to pull it's card
Jack or ace, king or queen, call me the deuce
I'm pouring la juice
Hitting the top, feeling the rim
Getting a trim, i never rhyme like them
On and on, on and on, on and on
Until the break of dawn
I go overtime, rock the mic in nighttime
Daytime, switching off to primetime
Specifically, strolling back in the west time
Rock the funk wit the mic in the east rhyme
Hype and dope, hype the frame, the mic is smoking
Yo, i ain't joking
Rhyme to kill, rhyme to murder, rhyme to stomp
Rhyme to ill, rhyme to romp
Rhyme to smack, rhyme to shock, rhyme to roll
Rhyme to destroy anything toy boy
On the microphone
I'm poppa large, big shot on the east coast(4x)
You're dripping sweaty, coming hard on your neck
As i flow and grow from head to toe
Seeking a style like john mcenroe
Dissing 'em all, serving them wit the mic stand
Like prince and michael coming out wit a big band
The crowd is loud, you can pay as teh manager
Run wit the money, i pull the trigger and damage ya
Boom, taking life more serious
I may sound lyrical and very mysterious
Rhymes are grip tight, no grams to kill more
A son of sam, how could i begin more
Grabbing the mic, you see the dark and shadows
You're in living hell, the funk, pound to pound
The funk ignited, hands are writing, brains dividing
I'm coming out in sighting
Like i'm blackula, a better man that dracula
Spectacular and not irregular
In fact you are speaking impopular
Rhymes are moved and you can't be stop wit the
Beat as it goes to the rhyme that flows
Like a coke in a straw burning up in your nose
That's a bad habit, stepping out on stage one
Drop the mic, come and turn to page one
Look at the master, my range is higher
My lyrical burns, your brain's on fire
Poppa large, big shot on the east coast(8x)
more free lyrics |
17. _ You Ain't Real
[moe luv scratches an n.w.a. sample (originally curtis mayfield?)
Saying the word "niggaz" over and over]
Brothers wanna know, what's goin on about the 4-1-1
On the group, and so on and so forth
So what you talk for, you know what i came for:
A motherfuckin ground war!
Talkin that same old style
Same old song, same old thang
Sweatin yourself, you're gettin busy yo
Huh, but you still can't hang
I'd rather rip, and still the flip trip
On the mic grip and hit, and then trip
Into i never ever miss.. yo
You still ain't shit
Thinkin you're all that, you've got
The rep and props but you still can't rap
Wanna talk about a wannabe, never gonna be
Ever gonna be, who's gonna see
Come near here, come here child yeah
I got flavor, style -- compare
[moe luv cuts: "hold the beat, stop the beat, drop the beat"]
Yo, you can't compete
You wanna steal my voice, steal our sound
Steal my beats, you wanna fuck around
I don't play son, shorts do i take none
You need help better call 9-1-1
Or the beatles, or susannah
Drink you up like a cup of tropicana
Juice, i got more, flowin like a river
Yeah, style's what i give ya
Shakin em, keep fakin em, make make makin em
Takin em, bakin em, no mistaken em
Dope, hyper, raw def mc
Wanna talk about a man, yo who is he
Or she, you got nerve to even talk that
What about that, yeah, what's up with that
Rumor talkin, we can't make a hit
We've been makin hits while you've been suckin dicks
Around the town, lookin for a hardcore deal
Yeah - you ain't real!
"niggaz" yeah, you ain't real!
"niggaz" yeah -- you ain't real!
"niggaz" you ain't real!
"niggaz" yeah -- you ain't real!
"niggaz" who are you? you ain't real!
"niggaz" yeah, you you ain't real!
"niggaz" man..
"niggaz" .. get out my face!!!
[kool keith]
Yeah, motherfuckers wanna blast
I keep rhymes in store for they ass
They ain't got the style to kick no shit
I bust rhymes and heat and just blow shit
Out, let me ask one question
You think i fell off? well come test then
You ain't the man to stop the big x
Fuck around become ?? ?? next
Yes -- shit is gettin wild
Very wild, slick and much wild
But watch when i come with the rhythm x shit
Then after that, motherfuckers wanna quit
Whether or not, you like it or not, you're wack it's true
Your whole crew sound doo doo
I keep tissue to wipe the first face
I'm like a team that stays in first place
Winnin, like the motherfuckin giants
You got rhymes to kick? then drop science
Math, english, fuck it i said it
Yo ced, come and grab the mic
[ced gee]
Yo let's begin with a phrase that's quite hype
I'll control with soul gee get right
Into the mix like a dj spinnin on
The crowd is buggin, rememberin "bring it on"
The phrase that stand to all that wanna try
To step to the gee get roast and i wonder why
Hmmm, like arsenio hall said, i think
You rhyme like butter you're soft and you're quite stink
Tryin to perpetrate, sayin you're hard right
You hit money grip you're fake like a bad night-mare
With freddie, you know you're not ready
You sound immature, like a amateur petty
Yeah (you ain't ready)
To step on the stage, get hit with the rhyme jab
Just like the flintstones, i'll break like bam bam
Bam! bam! bam! bam! bam! -- i'm smoke ya
You slept on the gee, better yet, true ultra
But now we're back and, mc's we're slappin
We're givin no slack and, because you're wack and
Yeah.. you ain't real!
"niggaz" yeah, you ain't real!
"niggaz" yeah -- you ain't real!
"niggaz" yeah, you ain't real!
"niggaz" who are you? you ain't real!
"niggaz" yeah, you you ain't real!
"niggaz" man get out my face!!!
more free lyrics |
18. _ Chorus Line Pt. 2
[kool keith]
Can you funk with it? (3x)
Rappers wanna step on the x, then go to shit
I got the mic in my hand and well equipped
Usin my style for a firm set of action
Mc's beware, the club windows i'm bashin
Throwin rhymes and bombs and some cocktails
You better move quick, but not slow snails
I get smooth on daddy and granddaddy
Why? cause i'm the great grandfather
Mc in motion, g as in go left
Rhymin on off-beat, the x is so death-defyin
Super scrubs keep tryin
You wanna bite like a pit? i'll be the lion
I'll chew your ass like monkies on wild kingdom
And look at birds and bees that come sting them
Time after time, rhyme after rhyme
Cause you ain't jack shit, not even a dime
A nickel and penny, a one dollar bill
How can you break wild and tell brothers to chill
You ain't the man to move and stop the cannonball
No matter how you run hide, it's gonna land and fall
Straight on your brain, the x'll drop rocks
Leave a rapper with mumps and chicken pox
Standin still and stiff like a mannequin
Bloody kotex and sweat, and start panickin
I'm dissin rappers like damon on living color
You need my help on the stage? i'm not your mother
Father, son, your pissy little cousin
Suckers are crabs, i grab em all by the dozen
You think you're hard with them hats and all that black on
You're not scarin the x, yo bring the wack on
I load the mic up and bust like a mack 10
While my dj go wild, do a backspin
Kick em down, one two, flights of four stairs
This ain't no sample or break from roy ayers
I'm just a convict, skippin the prison line
Yo, i'm on the chorus line
[tim d] it's a chorus line
[ultra] it's a chorus line!
[tim d] it's a chorus line
[ultra] it's a chorus line!
[tim d] it's a chorus line
[ultra] it's a chorus line!
[tim d] flipmaster, bust your rhyme
Yeah.. my funkiest deep down from the underground
Down in the bronx, this is the funk
[ced gee]
Yo melody change up, grip on the beat right
I come correct hit hard like a fist fight
I thank god for pavin the ways
For writin these dope rhymes, and rappers i slaid
I'm kickin the rhymegram, as dope as i can and
To make you say god damn, gee's got a hype jam
To crush a punk and make em beg for mercy
Because he's nothin, he can't touch me
The metaphor master, has to blast ya faster
You wanna step in my way, then i'll smash ya
You see you're a bit slow, your flow's out of sync bro
You rhyme like a weasel, my rhymes are cock diesel
So step if you really feel cocky
And i'll flip and bash your skull like rocky
Call you bullwinkle, snatch your gameplan
You played out son like dudley captain caveman
Set you down, explain you can't go far
You rhyme kinda country like some shit out of hee-haw
Ced gee and i'm flexin my wrath
Takin rappers by one, cold bustin that ass
So now you know exactly what's the time
I'm cold illin on the new chorus line
[tim d] it's a chorus line
[ultra] it's a chorus line!
[tim d] it's a chorus line
[ultra] it's a chorus line!
[tim d] it's a chorus line
[ultra] it's a chorus line!
[c.gee] yo tim dog, bust your rhyme
Yo, man it's the man himself
The motherfuckin illegal alien one
Yo comin up next is tim dog
Yo dog, eat them motherfuckers
[tim dog]
Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgh, comin at cha
With a funky rhyme that'll sure nuff catch ya
Get fat, get slow, get high, get low
But you still can't blow
Rhythm is smashin whippin ass is a passion
Suckers that keep clashin break em like glass and
{*crashing glass*} you just shatterin
Fuck with tim dog, well you know you're not badder than
I'm rich and thick, you're "cup of noodles"
My rhymes are hardcore when you're rubber like doo doo
Step back, ease back and just listen
I'm dissin, all suckers that keep wishin
Rhyme and rhyme, with the rhyme, bring another rhyme
Get another rhyme, bring a rhyme, let your mother rhyme
Steppin to the a.m., steppin to the p.m.
Steppin to the bus while i'm ridin in the b.m.
*vrrroom vrrroom* you see me jettin right by
With the fly latin girl in my ride
You gettin jealous? you shouldn't be jealous
Let me ask the fellas - hey fellas
Why is he jealous, jockin me and my fly ride?
You really really really wanna get inside
You wanna riff but i got the gift that come swift
And ain't got time for that bullshit
Pulsate devestate and innovate
Suckers that think they're great i just mutilate
Tim dog, comin back with the rhyme
Fuckin up shit on the chorus line
[tim d] it's a chorus line
[ultra] it's a chorus line!
[tim d] it's a chorus line
[ultra] it's a chorus line!
[tim d] it's a chorus line
[ultra] it's a chorus line!
[tim d] t.r., yeah, bust your rhyme!
I think the track is very complicated
I don't know, any place that will accept the track like this
We can't deal with that stuff, it's too tight
[t.r. love]
Back again, comin off on a hype track
The man is back again, cause it's like that
Black, matter of fact, in death react
Combat, motherfuckers don't want that
Style, rip it up style, catch a fill it up style
Freestyle, so buckwild
I got the style you want to hear
Who's next? you better fear
T.r., the super s-t-a-r, like a czar
In control, by far
Cruisin, like a benz or a jaguar
Boss your audi, like john gotti
So like my man whose name is..
Make a move? i'll make you famous
And if you choose to step to this, you get next to this?
Remember the exorcist
I wrap rappers like my man named bolo
Take out a city, like chernobyl
I'm greatly underrated, highly elevated
To serve and destroy, is how i demonstrate it
To keep grooves and move to soothe and prove
Fans and guests performers i amuse
To teach and reach, anyone or anybody
A fan will grab my hand and wants to join the party
I got skills and style for each and every time..
.. on the chorus line!
more free lyrics |
19. _ I Like Your Style
[kool keith]
Hey girl, swing it over here with your long legs
Let the master work, let the master flirt
Yes, you look good in that mini-skirt
I gotta tell ya, sweet and i can smell ya
Mmmm, what you wearin, liz claiborne?
Giorgio, or that other stuff avon?
You walk away, but love, i still follow you
And if i had a chance, i may swallow you
Chew you like doublemint, gum like spearmint
Juicy fruit, i'm a real live brother
Respectable man, talkin to you undercover
Watch, look, i like the way you smile
Yeah baby, i like your style
Chorus: {*singers*}
I like your style (so baby let me tell you)
I like your style (i really really want you)
Girl i like your style, the way you wear your smile
I like your style
Everytime i get with you you seem to blow my mind
I like your style
[ced gee]
Yo listen baby
It takes more than a boomin system
To turn my head, make me flip and listen
You gotta know how to walk, you gotta know how to talk
You gotta know how to stand, you gotta know how to smile
You gotta know how to wiggle, you gotta know how to move
Just to catch my attention
Now after that you gotta have a personality
I'm talkin class, not a skeezer's mentality
Know when to wear your jeans, how to wear your jeans
And where to tear your jeans, and when to keep the jeans
Hangin in the closet
And when it's time to wear a fly silk dress
You wear it well - i like your style
Chorus
[kool keith]
You cold mack at the clubs with your girlfriends
You ain't lookin for games or no boyfriends
A kid tryin to kick the dil-deally line
A fake rap or two, a hillbilly line
I get smooth and offer you a big drink
I like the way, you're pumpin in hot pink
Italian, black, you could be puerto rican
Yo give me your number, i'ma call you on the weekend
You got a head on your shoulders, plus i like that
You ain't no dummy no fool, i still like that
Style, body, you're perfectly fine
Remember kool keith, the man worth the while
Yeah, i like your style
Chorus
more free lyrics |
20. _ Dolly And The Rat Trap
[kool keith]
Yo i met this fine motherfuckin bitch last night man
Pussy taste like strawberries man
I was up in the crib chillin...
...and spendin much cash
[ced gee]
Yo i hear you man
Them big shot bitches be perpetrating
And you still be taking a loss
Look at donald trump!
[kool keith]
I know a bitch named dolly, she live uptown
She got a fly new benz, kid of asian brown
Every night she would front and try to flex on the x
For no reason, with that diamond and stud shit
With two other girls, on that glamour and big shit
Walkin around, at apollo and bentley
Sportin the weave, like the queen of the centuries
Lookin for buster, holyfield and tyson
Jordan and sugar ray, a cake with icing
Dolly walked in, with a tiger-striped mink coat
Her friend had on some shit, i think it was billy goat
Tryin to play all and many boogie down brothers out
Regular b-boys, the crew, and others out
Steppin to bar, the first order was champagne
Dolly had a fat ass, with tina and charmagne
Lookin for tank four, on e with no gain
The benz was outside, parked with no gas
Bitches inside, frontin hard in first class
Tryin to play the x, like fucked up tv
Lookin for green to get to washington d.c.
You give him his car back, money and coat back
Shoes and hat back, the credit you're known for
Hoein out of state with the big drug dealers
From east to west and only cash money stealers
Charlie got much shit, them bitches are eatin well
You say to yourself, i'm al capone, so what the hell
Damn... i jerked three hundred g's
I coulda put out a group with ten or twenty mc's
And made megabucks, but you never did realize
Dolly was shifty with her lips and chinky eyes
Never had a dime, but know how to get one
Jerk one take one, out for a long ride
With tina and charmagne, bums on e side
Lookin for bm's, cherokees and jaguars
Benzes and audis, for the brothers with jettas
Watch yourself, and step away from the rat trap
more free lyrics |
21. _ Funk Radio
[tr love]
Yeah
Smooth in the groove
Yo whassup man, what's up, what's goin on man, what's happenin?
[kool keith]
Yo whassup this is the one, rhythm x, x-calibur
One two, funk ignitor plus (yeah)
Comin at ya at thirty degrees.. farenheight (ha ha)
The heat is on your ears
Right now we gettin ready to get busy on w-k-r-funk radio live!
(we'll burn ya!) with tr love (and moe love on the set)
And we talkin to y'all from los angeles
Live, on w-k-r-funk radio, our own station
See rappers don't know, i snatch a beat
I hear a beat, i catch a beat
The rhythm x roll up, my style gets critical
Brain connects, computer rhymes get phsyical
I walk low, and howl with no afro
X with a bald head, like fidel castro
Walk in a jam, with the mic and my girlfriend
While two girls are buggin, sayin, "keith is my boyfriend!"
But i come back though, start the attack though
Add up some points, like i'm playin nintendo
Now look at the game, i move step in first place
Leave em all blind for hard times and third base
Back to bake em more, fizzle and burn though
But you can't see the record sizzle and turn though
Hittin the top like a hot 45
Like, "ahh - ahh - ahh - ahh - stayin alive, stayin alive"
Yeah, gettin back into business
Rappers get back and do some physical fitness
Jumpin jacks, situps and pushups
Now pick up your brain, and come and lift up some heavy weights
Stupid you're dumb, standin still with dead weight
Rappers try to plex, i mark x
I stamp x, and throw em another x
X-tra rhythm flow, x-tra metaphor
X-tra hype and dope, x-tra cupid feet
X-tra body heat, x-tra brain power
X-tra cash flow, you soft cauliflower
But i do get swift, change the pitch if
You got the rhymes and hammer foots to dance with
Yo, let's get the dead party jumpin
Rappers are crazy wack, and ain't sayin nothin
While people are steady, sweaty tired and boring
Let me go on, steppin to and flow on
And so on, turn the mic in my show on
Please the crowd with some super dope hype stuff
Lyrical metaphor, and some of that right stuff
Shakin your brain up, wakin your brain up
Confusin your mind like a block or rubik's cube
Think about it, you probably don't understand
With a lower iq, a weak brain my man
So listen up, and go on back to school
Fool.. you ain't jack
Yeah that's comin live from w-k-r-funk
With dj moe love, tr love
We gon', bring it out, by special request
For tr funky love
[tr love]
Yeah, thanks a lot for that funky introduction rhythm x
I appreciate it
Yeah the phones are lightin up crazy
We want the 103rd caller to come in
And win them disco pants in the contest
Now if you ready for some more live hype stuff
So here it is..
Some rappers can flow and, rock off the slow jam
Stay hype, continously, cause i know i can
Rock off tempo, fast or even hyper
Just like a sniper, pied microphone piper
Smooth rough and ready, hardcore stanyin steady
In the lane, rock'n'roll ready
On, any, mc type wannabe like
Had to sound like, gots to be like
Wants to look like, has to act like
Now you feel like.. hmm
You know you're perpetrating? yeah right
C'mon face it, and then chase it
You can taste it, cause i placed it
Smack in your face, with five million lbs of bass
Boomin systems ads can't replace
In fact all, the rhythm is packed on tightly
+days of thunder+? not likely
Fact or fiction, while i got you scheamin
You ain't ready boy, i caught you sleepin
And searchin for a dope style, combine to watch our
Freestyle, straight from the penile
Buckwild, runnin wild with the golden mic
I'm like a flash, first you see, then you lose sight
Of the master tr, plan in hand
Destroyin a foe, who's not in demand
So act now, and for the fact now
There's no doubt in my mind, i'll be rap now
C'mon on man, c'mon!
Yo, mc's, you say you're comin back?
Huh, yo, you ain't jack.. jack.. jack.. jack.. jack..
[kool keith]
Jack.. jack.. jack.. jack..
[tr love]
Yeah, ha hah, ha hah, ha hah..
more free lyrics |
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Român 
