Very Best of Das EFX

Intro/Hook:

Looseys, I remember loosey (x8)

Well, bust how I'm flippin, flappin
Rippin up the rappin
Look at the way I kick it, I'm wicked, it happen
one night in Manhatten, chillin, buggin
Me and some of the crew went around to this club and
peeped it, scoped it, hope the shit was rockin
Stuns by the bunch had the hunch they was clockin
Stepped up, dressed up, the young got some weed back
Honey got done then begun talkin to me, jack
I kicked slang to her, all my niggas knew her
I wanted to gas ahead and take her back to the sewer
to do her, screw her
I knew I had to hush
when I felt my belly drop and the spot turned to mush
Um, shush shush, I need me a push
I felt loosey bubblin, trouble in my tush
Then the gush came gushin, rushin, splat!
The juice hooked my Davy D's quick like that
Smack, I biggity-broke my bitch from behind
Tried ta shake it, fake it
but yo I couldn't hide from...

Hook

Well, dosey-do your partner as I start the intro
'cause nobody does it better, correcta-mondo
Back in '86 I was dick with the skills
Playin ball in the gym with my nigga from the Ville
I was runnin it like the trooper, had no time to play the small cat
I had it goin on, word to mother I was all that, black
So one day, believe it or not, I'm chillin
I was playin against these niggas from The Bronx for some chitlins
So bust it, I'm in it with my coojas, gimme the rock, G
I float like a butterfly and kick like karate
I scored 26, I caught a fake and now I'm Audi
I'm takin it to the hoop and then this kid tried to foul me
(HAAA!) Boom to the gutter, I hit the floor, I wanted to flip
I couldn't, damn, all of a sudden I had to shit
So I dipped to the sewer, I couldn't control the shit because it
slipped past my dick, drip drip like a faucet
Down past my shorts and hit the court and all of a sudden
girls were gettin sick, all my niggas they was buggin
I made it to the bowl leavin behind a trail of dookie
My drawers are soakin wet and I'll never forget the day I met....

Hook to fade

Bum stiggedy bum stiggedy bum, hon, I got the old pa-rum-pum-pum-pum
But I can fe-fi-fo-fum, diddly-bum, here I come
So Peter Piper, I'm hyper than Pinochio's nose
I'm the supercalafragilistic tic-tac pro
I gave my oopsy, daisy, now you've got the crazy
Crazy with the books, Googley-goo where's the gravy
So one two, unbuckle my, um shoe
Yabba Doo, hippity-hoo, crack a brew
So trick or treat, smell my feet, yup I drippedy-dropped a hit
So books get on your mark and spark that old censorship
Drats and double drats, I smiggedy-smacked some whiz kids
The boogedy-woogedly Brooklyn boy's about to get his, dig
My waist bone's connected to my hip bone
My hip bone's connected to my thigh bone
My thigh bone's connected to my knee bone
My knee bone's connected to my hardy-har-har-har
The jibbedy-jabber jaw ja-jabbing at your funny bone, um
Skip the ovaltine, I'd rather have a honeycomb
Or preferably the sesame, Let's spiggedy-spark the blunts, um
Dun dun dun dun dun, dun dun

They want EFX, some live EFX
They want EFX, some live EFX
They want EFX, some live EFX
Snap a neck for some live EFX

Well I'll be darned, shiver me timbers, yo head for the hills
I picked a weeping willow, and a daffodil
So back up bucko or I'll pulverize McGruff
'Cause this little piggy gets busy and stuff
Arrivederci, heavens to mercy, honky tonk I get swift
I caught a snuffleufagus and smoked a boogaloo spliff
I got the nooks, the cranies, the nitty gritty fodey-doe
All aboard, cast away, hey where's my boogaloo?
Oh I'm steaming, agony
Why's everybody always picking on me
They call me Puddin' Tane, and rap's my game
You ask me again and I'll t-tell you the same
'Cause I'm the vulgar vegemintarian, so stick 'em up freeze
So no Park sausages, Mom, please
A-blitz shoots the breeze, twiddly-dee shoots his lip
Crazy dazy shot the Sheriff, yup and I shot the gift
And that's pretty sneaky, sis oh yep
I got my socks off, my rocks off, my Nestle's cup of cocoa
Holly hobby tried to slob me, tried to rob me silly stunt
Diggedy-dun dun dun dun dun, dun dun

They want EFX, some live EFX
They want EFX, some live EFX
They want EFX, some live EFX
Snap a neck for some live EFX

Yahoo, hidee-ho yup I'm coming around the stretch
So here Fido boy, fetch, boy, fetch
I got the rope-a-dope a slippery choker, look at me get raw
And I'm the hickory-dickory top of morning boogoloo big jaw
With the yippedy zippedy Winnie the Pooh bad boy blue,
Yo crazy got the gusto, what up, I swing that too
So nincompoop give a hoot and stomp a troop without a strain
Like Roscoe B. Coltrane
I spiggedy-spark a spiff and give a twist like Chubby Checker
I take my Froot Loops with two scoops, make it double decker
Oh Vince, the baby come to Papa Duke
A babaloo, ooh, a babaloo boogedy boo
I went from Gucci to Stussy, to fliggedy-flam a groupie
To Zsa Zsa, to yibbedy-yabba dabba hoochie koochie
Tally ho I-I'll take my Stove Top instead of potatoes, so
Maybe I'll shoot 'em now, nope maybe I'll shoot 'em later, yep
I used to have a dog and Bingo was his name oh, so uh
be - I - N - G - O-oh
You do the hokey pokey and you turn yourself around, hon, so uh
Dun dun dun dun dun, dun dun

They want EFX, some live EFX
They want EFX, some live EFX
They want EFX, some live EFX
Snap a neck for some live EFX

Intro/Chorus:

dumb dumb dilly dee dumb dumb
(Diddy diddy dumb dum)
dumb dumb dilly dee dumb dumb
(Diddy diddy dumb dum)
dumb dumb dilly dee dumb dumb
(Diddy diddy dumb dum)
dumb dumb dilly dee dumb dumb
(Dum dum)

Verse One: Dray

Aiyo peep it, can you keep it down while I rock
tick tock about this chick around the block?
She was high host, to the most hostess, no boastin
Back in '85, she was live, yo no jokin
A real go-getter, didn't try and sweat her
Fifteen years old and she was pushin a jetter
She had loot, moms and pops dukes had the bankin
She walked around school and the stunt would act stankin
Bitch, young Miss, only dated older fellas
My slang couldn't hang, no thang, I wasn't jealous of her

Chorus

Verse Two: Dray

Oh yeah, where was I? Bustin, now I'm ready
Now it's '87 and Miss Thing is goin steady
She was schoolin, chillin 'cause her man was makin papers
Tellin all her friends that these niggas caught the vapors
He found her, phoned her, then yo we boned her
Soon came a smack then he act like he owned her
He used her, 'bused her, fractured her wrist
then the Tommy got slapped behind her back gettin dissed
I was buggin, nuff on the stuff that I was seein
But that's how it goes for the hoes when they're bein......

Chorus

Verse Three: Skoob

Aiyo mirror, mirror, mirror, mirror, mirror on my dresser
Remember that chick Loretta, back in the days I used ta sweat her
I wanted to smoke the boots, troop, it didn't matter
She was kickin it to my man Stan who's livin phatter
than me, hops, chillin in my hoodie and my Reebok's
Now she's in a jam 'cause, Stan was slangin rocks, but
look at me now, honey, 'cause this the morning after
I'm yapper, a nappy-headed undaground rappa
Word to mom dukes, she was suits so I took her to my show
Just to show my niggas that the hooker was.....

Chorus

Verse Four: Skoob

Ah the show was phat, now it's back to the room, G
Yo mirror, this is where Loretta tried to do me
My neck was on her tongue, *?Ep's?* was gettin swung
Krayz was gettin biz with the friend that she brung
Then she took it upon herself to let me know she's in the mood-a
Then she licked her boot-a, oh shoot-a, I screwed her
I showed her, I rolled her, from here to North Dakota
I gangbanged the boots like a Brooklyn troop oughta
I stuck it in her [BACKWARDS], bust a nut, she was starvin
So I pushed in the bush til those lips started partin, but she was.......

Chorus to fade

(People people people people
people people people people)

Verse 1: Dray, Skoob

Shippity bop, well hot diggity, where's the iggity? The bum siggity
Niggas want to know but check the flow my little trickity
I'm comin with the Books so kid, it looks like it's a winner
Ya better get'cha plate because I'm servin raps for dinner
See I freak it from the sewer plus I'm quick to do ya posse
I'm swoopin on the note just like I was a kamikaze
See they thought I lost my spot so they went and got real comfy
So now I gotta hit me hard and bogart like Humphrey
Ya hypocrite, I'm rippin it because I'm flyer
Ya phony, full of bologne like Oscar Meyer
See I attack a pack of rappers just for practice
I bust my tactics, I'm sharper than a f----- axe-iss

(Set it off!) One two (Set it off!)
Yeah it's the Books in reverse, the next cap sendin a big-up to my borough
I'm thorough, wetter than a ghetto from Medini-Bop
Takin lessons, swayin niggas on graffitti
Rockin other slang ranger, bring a banger ???? occasion
My nerves is achin, see I'm sick of niggas perpetratin
But can't see this, I'm screamin on they records like Beavis
or Butthead, I bust heads like Amy
Fisher isser, blisser, hit you like an accident
and if I'm in your town you might meet me at the Radisson
or splatterin, batterin crews for lip chatterin
It ain't nuttin new, that's how we do, my crew is back again

Chorus:

Bak 'n' affek, how's that?
(People people people people)
*repeat x3*

Verse 2: Dray, Skoob

Well here I go again, so dig the flow again, try not to bite
a bigger nigga with my left and then I flick em with my right
I'm outta sight, look how I do it, ya blew it if you missed a
nigga on the microphone 'cause I can roll a sister
Word is bond, I'm on some nuke ----, new ---- like this
Grab a piece of steel and shoot the giff like Chris
Cringle, lost my jingle, don't it make ya shiver
Give a nigga what he needs so he can bleed when I deliver
Aah microphone check, what the heck?
I do that then because I used to catch a wreck
wit it, that's the time I hot talk, spit it
For Christ's sake I'm in to hit the brakes and you're skiddin
You ---- in, messiah did it, but y'all can keep that
'cause now I'm on some other type of flow and best believe that

And all that, small cat, my format - deranged
Honey I'm back to run things 'cause some things is never changed, punk!
So if you're drunk, I freak the funk until you're sober
but still be gettin chills when niggas know that winter's over
Kickin the flam yo it's the man, tick tock, I jam like gridlock
My style is fender bendin sendin rappers to the pitstop
Good lord o' mercy, hit reversy if you missed it
and busboy give the speech 'cause like a preacher, baby I'm twisted
Kid I swing a dome-buster light, bone crush a *?smith?*
Bust up your lips then puff up a spliff
So yo, who be dat? Dat want to do me like this to get
booby trapped jack, 'cause my crew be strapped fat like dat

Chorus

Bust a flavor
Word up uh, yeah, uh, yeah
Check it out

(Well I'ma freakit like that, and I'ma freak it like this)
(Well I'ma freakit like that, and I'ma freak it like this)
(Well I'ma freakit like that, and I'ma freak it like this)

Well I'ma freakit like this so then my nigga Books is next
The crew is from the sewer when the crew is Das EFX
I wrecks cos when I flex I gots ta rip it
Excuse me if some brew it makes me woozy when I sip it
I'm wicked so let me kick it, I got my crew in
I rips just for kicks, I got more dicks than Perduin
I pick em, pluck em, stuck em wit my cock an'
no my name ain't Santa but here's somethin for ya stockin
I'm rockin, I got'cha Glock and I'm from the under
Down to take my sound because it's bound to make ya wonder

Well I'ma freakit like that, and I'ma freakit like this
Well I'ma freakit like that, and I'ma freakit like this
Well I'ma freakit like that, and I'ma freakit like this
Well I'ma freakit like that, and watch me freakit like this

Well I'm freakit like dat wit more maneovers than the Heimlich
when I rhyme wit the Krayz vertebraes in your spine-git
Chills, rippin up the skills, I'm like wholesome
and if the mic was paid so then my dollar run the Boston
So just work it up and I'll be glad to blast they ass
out the socket when I rock it like NASA
and plus I'm gettin hysterical wit my lyrical concoctions
I take it to the top then hook up pops and
I'm dope when I'm slingin more hits than the Oakland A's
I freakit like dat and then I'm swayz

Well I'ma freakit like this, and I'ma freakit like that
Well I'ma freakit like this, and I'ma freakit like that
Well I'ma freakit like this, and I'ma freakit like that

Well I'ma freakit like this because I be doper than the dopest
I focus on the mic and if you like it you can quote this
I wrote this, I smoke this mic until it's heated
The kid he tried ta battle me but then he got defeated
I'm wheated, don't need that, no keep that, no sell-out
cos if I ever do you know my crew'll get the hell out
I'm quipped with the lingo, my thing go for days
I flip it when I rip it cos I like what it pays
I'm dip dodge dope, y'know I'm gonna get'cha
cos now I rocks the mic just like a battle was a pitcher

Well I'ma freakit like this, and I'ma freakit like that
Well I'ma freakit like this, and I'ma freakit like that
Well I'ma freakit like this, and I'ma freakit like that

Well I'ma freakit like that cos black I bust caps with roughrats
and plus I does the sub dat, flip scripts and dust chaps
off with the quickness, I'm wicked with the propaganda
and hot damn, I got more props than that Fox Samantha
The hickory-dick slickest nigga wit the
raps that sound nifty, wait around to pound sixty
I'm freakin the rap slurries witta black skullie hat on
I'm sweepin on chucks like niggas knew me from the platform
I'm dope when I'm swingin more hits than the Oakland A's
I freakit like dat and then I'm swayz

Well I'ma freakit like this, and I'ma freakit like that
Well I'ma freakit like this, and I'ma freakit like that
Well I'ma freakit like this, and I'ma freakit like that
Well I'ma freakit like this, and I'ma freakit like that
Well I'ma freakit like this, and I'ma freakit like that
Well I'ma freakit like this, and I'ma freakit like that
Well I'ma freakit like this, and I'ma freakit like that

Bring it in one time, Solid Scheme

Hook: (x3)

(Gotta story to tell y'all)
(Here's a lil' story I got ta do)

Verse 1: Books

Uh
Well say hello to the bad guy or am I or [shit] 'cause I'm ya
local slinger swinger, quick ta bring the drama
plus not takin the sweat but test me if ya want to
I'm baggin kids up like they bag that chick T'want to
*?Prawley?*, some ignore me, others I bother
for the props and top dollar, G I'm doin what I gotta, see
I puts the fear in ya heart kid, I start [fuckin] for nuttin
and no this ain't the dope that catch ya cuttin, bust
Now's the time to make my move 'cause I'm out to do tha
kid that tried to slip for some buda, sleep (word up)
I peeped every spot his boys be, I got crew
But what am I do is get somebody new to do it for me
I'm catchin wreck to prove a point, time is loot
and I ain't spinnin it in the joint but better yet
These days I'm all professional, some new [shit] I got
I check this nigga that I used to snatch jewels wit
back in the day but nevertheless the kid's ass' slingin gas
to pay bills to 'ford some pills that kill stress (I hear ya kid)
Now as for me G let's just say I learnt the rules
I paid my dues and now I cruise in my Lexus
No better time than the present to make him an offer
He can't refuse but might regret it, so I'ma set it

Hook

Verse 2: Dray

Well, umm, take this job and shove it
punk [fuck] it, another day of workin
My boss is on my back and I'm about to go berserkin
Catch a fit money grip 'cause pumpin gas is a bitch way
Niggas be ridin by my job and frontin like they bitchin
I want to bust wit disgust 'cause I'm sour (aha)
Takin all the [shit] and only gettin four dollars a hour
There go some bitches swearin that they better
givin a cold shoulder as they roll by in the [fuckin] jetter
I gets no pay though 'cause they know that you know
can't wait to take a [fuckin] break so I can go and puff this buddha
I'm bustin my ass but my cash just ain't stockin
Now who's this creepin up the [fuckin] block-in?
Clockin, lookin like he really want to test this
Just another dick, I oughta stick him for that Lexus
The [shit] is killin me, why this kid grillin me?
actin like he want to bust caps and start fillin me
up wit some hot [shit], I spot [shit], I'm buggin
I fuckin know this nigga because he used to be thuggin
my area, causes hysteria, I guess he chillin
We used ta rob niggas back in the day when I was illin
like jaw-cappin niggas just for yappin
He claim he got some loot that I can make, I give a clappin
Umm, let him kick it 'cause I ain't tryin to sink in
I need to make this dough so now ya know he got me thinkin

Hook

Interlude: Dray & (Books) conversing

Yo what up kid? I know that was you be , yo waz up?
(Yo what up kid? Yo, I'm just out here doin my thing man
I'm tryin ta make this loot man, what up to you?)
Yo what's up? Put me on kid, ya see what I'm doin??
(I'm sayin man, what you doin man?)
Word up, I get off in a few be
(Aight! Yo I'm tryin ta see ya, word is bond!)
Yo yo, I ain't frontin kid, word is bond!
(Yo I'ma see ya aight)

Verse 3: Dray, Books

Bringin it back 'cause now I'm wit it
I'm lookin ta make this loot so now I figure
I hooked up with this nigga
because he bound to make my pocket's bigger
I'm lookin ta do this just gimme the cue and I'm willin
He scooped up, suit me up
boost me ups so now I guess we're chillin

I'm guessin we're like on some back-in-the-day [shit]
I need you to do me this
justice, some busters keep on playin me on some stupid [shit]
Crab nigga, up on the block he's just a tad bigger
Time to earn the cash so here's the burner and the match nigga

Yeah yeah yeah that sound cool so gimme the 2 because I'm on it
I leave em layin stiff and if that's how ya really want it
I'm buggin when I pull it, watch the bullet leave em leakin
Yo, hold up, cops! Yo I think them cops is peepin

Oh [shit], where they at? Stash the gat, toss the erb 'cause
Jakes checkin my plates and I'm tryin not to swerve, word
My nuts is shot, I think these cops is like schemin G
I'm pullin to the curb because these *?hertz?* is high -beamin me
*police sirens*

Hook

Intro/Chorus:

No diggedy - can I kick a rhyme for your mind?
No diggedy - do we bring it real e'rytime?
No diggedy - can I kick a rhyme for your mind?
No diggedy - Das EFX we rip it e'rytime
*repeat*

Verse 1: Dray, Books

Yo yo
Well biggity back from the gutter, ya beat the butter flow comin at'cha
Check the rapture that I miggity manufacture
Body snatcher, here to throw the pitch again
Gotta switch again because we back up in this bitch again (No doubt)
We roll like Michelin, the rapper's know the pedigree
Flowin steadily, yo Boogie Banger rizzy ready G?

I'm miggity made of snakes-n-snails and rock Wally tails
jiggity joined by the balls in case all else fails
Higgity hails from the land of gunsling and I tell ya one thing
diggity Das EFX we run things, hunting
down hardcore clowns and love singers
and I got more styles than Brooklyn got drug slingers (word up!)
Police oppress me, MC's want to stiggity stress me
Tickity talkin more trash than a Hefty
Heaven-to-Betsy when Dray spark the sess, we left
you faggot MC's marked for death

Chorus

Verse 2: Dray, Books

I line up rappers then I drop em like they're dominos (No diggedy!)
And naybody from their poppa to their momma knows (No diggedy!)
We got the flows to get ya hyper, plug up the mic-uh
phiggity-phone and then it's on because I'm just the type-uh
And ain't no diggedy, I flow until infinity, you must be kiddin me
ain't niggity nuttin gettin rid of me
Big up to PMD, forever gettin blunted
Flooded in the triple black Benz 500

I riggity rap like Saram from here to Pakistan
Me and my man came to kick styles out the can
Fridge you with the flow, yo it's the big chill
Ship all pounds plus stack my grants in a hill
So you better set the *?backra?* or ya head'll splat
I smiggity smoked the pot that called the kettle black
Provoke and get your jiggity jaw broke
be -K-L-why-N we no joke!

Chorus

Verse 3: Dray, Books

Well yo the 1 is for them suckers, the 2 is for my shortys
the 3 is for my knuckers puffin els and crackin 40's
Diggy Das EFX you know the text we never slackin
We back and fliggity flex a nigga, check the rappin

Niggas be actin shady!!!!
so I got eyes behind my back and I biggity black the 80
Yo we crazy as they come smokin blunts by the carton
Beg your pardon but MC's is a pain like ????
Sharpen up your skills, it's on the real to break em down
My sound is strictly hardcore underground

Chorus x1 1/2

I iggity am what I am
I comes to get biz so bust the jam
I might not be the man but y'all I still proceed to slam, I cram
to understand why these rappers try to faze me
They must be crazy messin with the Books and Drayzie
Big-up to Jersey and my people's out in el-a
Well-a hell-a can never cut the swell-a
Cos you can tell I gets biz like Markie
No matter what the weather son you never wanna spark me
I'm kickin rhymes and gettin mines on the regular
See me in the black Benz just blowin up the cellular
We high as shit, the sky is it
You know the sewer style yo is fly as shit
So grip (what?), you're cheap and buried
cos you're never comin near it
So fear it when you hear it, cheer it but don't compare it
I still be schoolin, foolin em when I'm speakin
Kids be heapin, they love the way that we be freakin
My sewer style it cause disaster so when I ask
you better answer who's the microphone master

Miggity microphone master, super rhyme maker
Miggity microphone master, super rhyme maker
Miggity microphone master, super rhyme maker
Miggity microphone master, super rhyme maker

Well yo, here's the humdinger,
I'm briggity bringin a new style of thing
It's a rap singer with a fat flow, so low and behold
I higgity hold his mic piece for ransom
It's all about expanses, stocks of skunks,
props and my pops get a mansion
By the age of 16, had dreams of big screens
Mad rubbers to keep my dick clean
Chrome tools in rent
and I only go downtown to buy jewels and tints
Jaboll, Guess, ol' Gold and sess
I check the mic 2-1 and chew gum to ease the breath
My style is wild like the Cats of Villanova
The heat on the street'll keep my 40's spillin over
So the skunk and thai keep me high when I'm smokin
And I don't sleep, just take naps with one eye open
See I believe the beaded weed in me is feedin me
the inspi-ration to riggity rock the nation
from white folk to Haitian, Jamaican
Burn MC's like degrees of Mason because you're fakin
I'm on point, exclamation with the caper
The flavor misbehaver from the super dooper rhyme maker

Miggity microphone master, super rhyme maker
Miggity microphone master, super rhyme maker
Miggity microphone master, super rhyme maker
Miggity microphone master, super rhyme maker

I got to give a siggity shout to my mans, my fans at the shows
friends, foes, stiggity stunts and hoes
Drats! I'm friggin to ride the fat, ooh shit!
My crew is shake, rattle and roll thick
Thicker than your blunt cos yo I be's the Brooklyn trooper
and I got more spunk than that punk from Punky Brewster
Bust the lingo Ringo stiggity Starr bingo
I run shit like Kunta, breaks bones like Mandingo
I'm starstruck like starbuck, the bad bro is mad though
I'm all that small cat like Tomko or Hasbo
I have no figgity fear yeah, it's me and mines
Masters of the microphone, makers of the super rhymes

Yo, well yo the shit sound clever,
I'm down for whatever like nuttin nice
Big-up to DJ Dice wreckin shop when he cut 'n' slice
These 20 MC's, please! I never heard of some
We need to murder some like Colin Ferguson
But now ya heard us from the under so feel the thunder
Ya best ta come clean like J-Rule and Felix Unger
I'm buggin like gristle, see I suggest you
dismiss you, my style's official and that's the issue
I show the flow I go until it's time to leave
Believe I'm packin more rhymes up my sleeve