[Disgruntled Youth]

Artist Lyrics: Ultramagnetic Mc'S
Song Lyrics: Poppa Large
Album Lyrics: Funk Your Head Up

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)

[Secret Boys]

iS IT REAL SON?

[Pookie]

Not guilty the filthy devils tried ta kill me
When the news get to the hood then niggas will be
hotter than cayenne pepper, cuss, bust
Kickin up dust is a must
I can't trust a cracker in a blue uniform
Stick a nigga like a unicorn
Vaugn, wicked, Lawrence Powell, foul
Cut his fuckin throat and I smile
Go to Simi Valley and surely
somebody knows the address of the jury
Pay a little visit, "Who is it?" (Who is Ice Cube?)
"Can I talk to the grand wizard?" then boom
Make him eat the barrel, modern day feral
Now he's zipped up like leather tuscadero
Pretty soon we'll catch Sergeant Coon
Shoot him in the face, run up in him witta broom
Stick prick, devils ain't shit
Introduce his ass to the AK40 dick
Two dazed niggas layin in the cut
To get some respect we had to tear this muthafucka up

[Tokolosh]

Magnetics rule.

Intro One: (only on Dr. Octagon hidden track original version)
I would have been completely dead had it not been for the Shark Man.
Shark Man? *chuckling*
Judging from his appearance, that's the most appropriate
name I could come up with for him.
I hate this kid.
This uhh... THING you're talking about.
It had the body of a shark, and the arms and face of a man?
That's the chap.
Holy jumping jackfish!
Intro Two: Mr. Gerbik
*moaning, growling*
Yes, you have met the dangerous 208 year-old Uncle of Dr. Octagon.
I myself Mr. Gerbik. Half-shark, half-man, skin like alligator.
Carrying a dead walrus. Check it.
Verse One: Mr. Gerbik
With my white eyes, gray hair, face is sky-blue yellow
Sideburns react, my skin is colored lilac
My skin turn orange and green in the limousine
People think I'm mixed with shark, drinking gasoline
Underwater I breathe and let loose on my sleeve
Walking down Hollywood Boulevard with a credit card
Three alligators behind me, feel my skin is hard
Transvestites, and people watch space parasites
I left his head in the store, legs in the street
Body in Wilcox, with blood dripping off my feet
L.A.P.D. through gray clouds couldn't see me
I first turned rainbow, closed my eyes, watch my brain glow
People got scared and ranned away they think I'm weird
I was born this way, halfsharkalligator
Is he weird??
Chorus: Mr. Gerbik *singing*
half-shark-alligator-half-man
Half man, half shark!
half-shark-alligator-half-man
Half man, half shark!
Verse Two: Mr. Gerbik
My vomit fluctuates, covers your skull like protoplasm
Lightning bugs turn pink, on my tongue catches spasms
Green elephants, I battle streets with a zebra
My mechanism is more than Dionne's psychic voodoo
African beads, snakeskins, cold script through you my medical passes
You can't see, with greedy glasses
Carbon dioxide, pour right through em with gases
My description dinosaur
I was made half-shark-half-man, my skin is like razor blades
Seven-oh-seven, Mr. Gerbik
Verbally no one change my thoughts, animals fly from Philly
My appetites more big it's time for wildabeasts
Adjust my skulls, seven eyes switch hydraulic scribbles
and shrimps, mack gorillas like a pimp
Half-shark-alligator-man
Chorus 2X
Verse Three: Mr. Gerbik
In my real world, orangutangs dance for Thanksgiving
With skeleton bones and skunk tails, is my mission
Holding backward raps to all my power packs
Babboons clap, and girl horses wanna hit the sack
We're too bold for ocean water, monkeys sniffin ice
Contact Jupiter pools Martians bring my rice
I'm out flyin with purple capes in the twilight
Oooh ooh ooh, tonight's the night
My oxygen region's, New York to California
Half shark alligator half man!
Outro: PBS Nature
It takes a supreme feat of strength to swim through
the water plows while dragging two hundred and
fifty pounds on your back... the crocodile's teeth
are designed to seize and hold, not to cut through
skin. During all the hours the somber lay in the water,
but are unable to penetrate the deer's tough hide.
The crocodiles make a few token objections; but in the
end, give up the struggle.

[Rob Instigator]

RAKIM

I Ain't No Joke

I aint no joke, I use to let the mic smoke
Now I slam it when Im done and make sure its broke
When Im gone I wrote this song cuz I wont let
Nobody press up and mess up the scene I set
I like to stand in a crowd and watch the people wonder damn
Bu think about it then youll understand
Im just an addict addicted to music
Maybe its a habit, I gotta use it
Even if its jazz or the quiet storm
I hook a beat up, convert it in a hip-hop form
Write a rhyme in graffitti in every show you see me in
Deep concentration cuz Im no comedian
Jokers are wild if you wanna be tame
I treat you like a child then youre gonna be named
Another enemy, not even a friend of me
Cuz youll get fried in the end if you pretend to be
Competing cuz I just put your mind on pause
And I can beat you when you compare my rhyme wit yours
I wake you up and as I stare in your face you seem stunned
Remember me, the one you got your idea from?
But soon you start to suffer but you only get rougher
When you start to stutter thats when you had enuff of
Biting it, I make you choke, you cant provoke
You cant cope, you should have broke cuz I aint no joke

I got a question, its serious as cancer
Who can keep the average dancer
Hyper as a heart attack nobody smiling
Cuz youre expressing the rhyme that Im styling
This is what we all sit down to write
You cant make it so you take it home, break it and bite
Use pieces and bits of all the hip-hop hits
Get the style down pat then its time to switch
Put my tape on pause and add some more to yours
Then you figure you're ready for the neighborhood chores
The e-m-c-e-e dont even try to be
When you come up to speak, dont even lie to me
You like to exaggerate, dream and imaginate
Then change the rhyme around, that can aggravate me
So when you see me come up, freeze
Or youll be one of those 7 mcs
They think that Im a new jack but only if they knew that
They who think wrong are they who cant do that
Style that Im doing, they might ruin
Patterns of paragraphs based on you and
Your offbeat dj, if anything he play
Sound familiar, Ill wait til E say
Play em, so ima have to dis and broke
You could get a smack for this, I aint no joke

I hold the microphone like a grudge
E'll hold the record so the needle dont budge
I hold a conversation cuz when I invent
I nominated my dj the president
When Im senile, people freestyle, going steadily
So pucker up and whistle my melody
But whatever you do, dont miss one
Theyll be another rough rhyme after this one
Before you know it, you're following and fiending
Waiting for the punchline to get the meaning
Like before the middle of my story Im telling
Nobody beats the R so stop yelling
Save it, put it in your pocket for later
Cuz Im moving the crowd and be a record fader
No interruptions and the mic is broke
When Im gone, then you can joke
Cuz everything is real on a serious tip
Keep playing and I varies quick
And take you for a walk through hell
Feed your dome then watch your eyeballs swell
Guide you out of triple stage darkness
When it get dark again then ima spark this
Microphone cuz the heat is on, you see smoke
And Im finish when the beat is gone, Im no joke

[Rob Instigator]

Geto Boys - MIND OF A LUNATIC
(this is the only hip hop song that scares me!)


(He's a paranoiac who's a menace to our society)

[ VERSE 1: Bushwick Bill ]
Paranoid, sittin in a deep sweat
Thinkin I gotta fuck somebody before the week ends
The sight of blood exites me, shoot you in the head
Sit down, and watch you bleed to death
I hear the sound of your last breath
Shouldn't have been around, I went all the way left
You was in the right place with me at the wrong time
I'm a psychopath, in a minute lose my fuckin mind
Calm down, back to reality
Don't fear death, cause I know that it's promised to me
Flashes, I get flashes of Jason
Gimme a knife, a million lives I'm wastin
The shadow of death follows me, I don't give a fuck
Pussy play Superman, your ass'll get boxed up
Put him in a straight jacket, the man's sick
This is what goes on in the mind of a lunatic

(He's a paranoiac who's a menace to our society)
(He's a) (He's a)
(He's a paranoiac who's a menace to our society)

[ VERSE 2: Bushwick Bill ]
Lookin through her window, now my body is warm
She's naked, and I'm a peepin tom
Her body's beautiful, so I'm thinkin rape
Shouldn't have had her curtains open, so that's her fate
Leavin out her house, grabbed the bitch by her mouth
Drug her back in, slammed her down on the couch
Whipped out my knife, said, "If you scream, I'm cuttin"
Opened her legs and commenced the fuckin
She begged me not to kill her, I gave her a rose
Then slit her throat, and watched her shake till her eyes closed
Had sex with the corpse before I left her
And drew my name on the wall like helter skelter
Run for shelter never crossed my mind
I had a guage, a grenade, and even a nine
Dial 911 for the bitch
But the cops ain't shit when they're fuckin with a lunatic

(Another innocent victim of this homicidal maniac)
(Maniac) (Maniac)
(Another innocent victim of this homicidal maniac)

[ VERSE 3: Scarface ]
I sit alone in my four-cornered room starin at candles
Dreamin of the people I've dismantled
I close my eyes and in the circle
Appears the images of sons of bitches that I murdered
Flashbacks of bodies bein fucked up
Once I attack, I'm like a pit on a rage that's goin for guts
Boys used to die when I'm full fo that fry
I be ebbin when I'm high
So I say 'fuck' and just let bullets fly
Like I said before, Scarface is my identity
A homicidal maniac with sucidal tendencies
I'm on the violent tip, so yo, get a grip
And bitch, come equipped, ain't takin no shit
Cause here comes a lunatic

[ VERSE 4: Scarface ]
My girl's gettin skinny, she's strung out on coke
So I went to her mother's house and cut out her throat
Her grandma was standin there, she was screamin out, "Brad!"
As she reached for the telly, I put the blade on granny's ass
Went to the back and grabbed a shovel
Now granny's on her way to meet the devil
Pulled out my .38 and aimed at the bitch
A cop says (Freeze, muthafucka!) Bitch, suck my dick
I said, "Die, muthafuckas!" as I blasted
Something clicked in my head, visions of bodies in plastic
The scent of buckshots in human flesh
Pigs dyin from bullet wounds to the chest
No sheriff's gonna take me on a road
Dark as fuck, and let his pistols explode
Fuck that, cause I ain'ts to die
So I reloaded my Uzi and fired up another fry
It got me crazy as fuck
A ragin psychotic full of that Angel's Dust
The cops had the place surrounded
Hunted for a way to get out - I found it
Innocent bystanders watch me set an example
I popped one, "Let me go, goddammit
Scot free
Or all of these muthafuckas comin with me"
All of a sudden the shit got silent
I remember wakin up, in an asylum
Bein treated like a troubled kid
My shirt was all bloody, and both of my wrists was slit
Think this is harsh? This ain't as harsh as it gets
No tellin what's bein thought up in the mind of a lunatic

(Maniac)
(Maniac)
(Ma-) (Mani-) (Maniac)
(I can't quit)

[ VERSE 5: Willie D ]
November 1st 1966
A damn fool was born with the mind of a lunatic
I shoulda been killed
But sister fucked around and let me live
Now I developped a criminal behaviour
Fuck with me, and I'll slay ya
Ass, beyond recognition, shit
Your dental records couldn't prove your identity, bitch
I beg your pardon, on talkin to borden
You'll never find a muthafucka, so save your milk cartons
Cross the line, your ass is mine
I don't give a fuck if you're 9 or 99
Blind, crippled, and crazy, don't faze me
Your funky ass will be pushin up daisies
You wanna know what makes me click?
My psychiatrist said I got the mind of a lunatic

(Let's get out of here, that guy is crazy)
(Ma-) (Ma-) (Ma-) (Maniac)

[ VERSE 6: Willie D ]
I ain't got it all, so don't fuck with me
Unless your ass wanna be made history
I'll blow your muthafuckin house up
And if your wife and kids are inside, they're fucked
I don't give a damn who I slay
Don't let me get a hold of some E&J
Cause when the shit hit the fan
I'll stab your ass quicker than a Mexican
The nightmares I leave you with on the scene
Will make Freddy bitch ass look like a wet dream
This is fact, not fictional, son of a bitch
I got the mind of a lunatic

[Anngella]

My Name Is Slim Shady.

[Toilet & Bowels]

Ghostface Killah - Daytona 500


Verse One: Raekwon the Chef

Say peace to cats who rock mack knowledge
Knowledgists, street astrologists
Light up the mic God, knowledge this
Fly joints that carried your points
Corolla Motorola holder
Play it God, he pack over the shoulder
Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise
Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives
Rapel on fakes like reflectors
He had sugar in his ear in his last crack career
We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna
run in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo
And jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break
Break down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake
Thugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing
Claim they doin the same shit we doin, fuck your unit
It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstyle
On the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials
Especially that, aluminum bat in the act
Relax, lay back, sold a grenade today, it pays black
The Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex
Index finger be sore, bustin these fly scripts
The Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans
Layin with my bitches and my mans in Lex Lands
We losin em, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem
Abusin em, rockin his jewels like we usin em
Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar
Roll with the older God, build with the Son and the Star

Chorus:

All these MC's start realizing
That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing
The Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest
But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us

Verse Two: Ghostface Killer

Mercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps
Red and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat
Doin forever shit, like pissin out the window on turnpikes
Robbin niggaz for leathers, high swipin on dirt bikes
Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble
Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ
The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless
Slaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners
In the Phillipines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings
Body chemical CREAM, we burn kerosene
The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon
Long-heads inscriptions with three sixes in
Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive
I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph
Zoomin like binoculars, the rap blacksmith
Money's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless
I'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy
True identity hidden inside secret tabloids
Breathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes
The track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes
Yo jostling these cats while Little J be deli-ing
Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians

Chorus

Verse Three: Cappadonna

Give me the the fifty thou, small bills
My gold plate, my slang kills
My Benz spills, whattup Lils
Murder one Dunn
Killer bee stung, guess who back home Son
My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon
Cristal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe
The mad-hatter big dick style, beware goons
smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs
Let the Gods build, pull up the grill
Check out the mad skills
Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it
and keep it, jiggy style of rap and watchin knuckle slang
sweep it out of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter
spoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten
High top notch, borderline rhymes is handcocked
Ninety-six, my ill sound clash is still hot
Get yourself shot

[Glice]

Wild Thing
Tone Loc
Album: Loc'd After Dark

Let's do it

Workin' all week 9 to 5 for my money
So when the weekend comes I go get live with the honey
Rollin' down the street I saw this girl and she was pumpin'
I winked my eye she got into the ride went to a club was jumpin'
Introduce myself as Loc she said "You're a liar"
I said "I got it goin' on baby doll and I'm on fire"
Took her to the hotel she said "You're the king"
I said "Be my queen if you know what I mean and let us do the wild thing

Wild thing (x2)

Shoppin' at the mall looking for some gear to buy
I saw this girl she cool rocked my world and I had to adjust my fly
She looked at me and smiled and said "You have plans for the night"
I said "Hopefully if things go well I'll be with you tonight"
So we journeyed to her house one thing led to an other
I keyed the door we cold hit the floor looked up and it was her mother
I didn't know what to say I was hanging by a string
She said "Hey you two I was once like you and I liked to do the wild thing"

Wild thing
She loved to do the wild thing
Wild thing
Please baby baby please

Posse in effect hangin' out is always hype
And when me and the crew leave the shindig I want a girl who's just my type
Saw this luscious little frame I ain't lyin' fellas she was fine
The sweet young miss go gave me a kiss and I knew that she was mine
Took her to the limousine still parked outside
I tipped the chauffeur when it was over and I gave her my own ride
Couldn't get her off my jack she was like static cling
But that's what happens when body start slappin' from doin' the wild thing

Wild thing
She wanna do the wild thing
Please baby baby please

Wild thing

Doin' a little show at the local discotheque
This fine youg chick was on my jack so I say what the heck
She want to come on stage and do her little dance
So I said chill for now but maybe later you'll get your chance
So when the show was finished I took her around the way
And what do you know she was good to go without a word to say
We was all alone and she said "Tone let me tell you one thing
I need $50 to make you holler I get paid to do the wild thing"

Say what
Yo love you must be kidding
You're walkin' babe
Just break out of here
Hasta la vista baby

Wild thing

[Glice]

"Baby Got Back"

[Intro]
Oh, my, god. Becky, look at her butt.
It is so big. *scoff* She looks like,
one of those rap guys' girlfriends.
But, y'know, who understands those rap guys? *scoff*
They only talk to her, because,
she looks like a total prostitute, 'kay?
I mean, her butt, is just so big. *scoff*
I can't believe it's just so round, it's like,
out there, I mean - gross. Look!
She's just so ... black!

[Sir Mix-a-Lot]
I like big butts and I can not lie
You other brothers can't deny
That when a girl walks in with an itty bitty waist
And a round thing in your face
You get sprung, wanna pull out your tough
'Cause you notice that butt was stuffed
Deep in the jeans she's wearing
I'm hooked and I can't stop staring
Oh baby, I wanna get wit'cha
And take your picture
My homeboys tried to warn me
But with that butt you got makes me feel so horny
Ooh, Rump-o'-smooth-skin
You say you wanna get in my Benz?
Well, use me, use me
'Cause you ain't that average groupy
I've seen them dancin'
The hell with romancin'
She's sweat, wet,
Got it goin' like a turbo 'Vette
I'm tired of magazines
Sayin' flat butts are the thing
Take the average black man and ask him that
She gotta pack much back
So, fellas! (Yeah!) Fellas! (Yeah!)
Has your girlfriend got the butt? (Hell yeah!)
Tell 'em to shake it! (Shake it!) Shake it! (Shake it!)
Shake that healthy butt!
Baby got back!

(LA face with Oakland booty)
Baby got back!

[Sir Mix-a-Lot]
I like 'em round, and big
And when I'm throwin' a gig
I just can't help myself, I'm actin' like an animal
Now here's my scandal
I wanna get you home
And ugh, double-up, ugh, ugh
I ain't talkin' bout Playboy
'Cause silicone parts are made for toys
I want 'em real thick and juicy
So find that juicy double
Mix-a-Lot's in trouble
Beggin' for a piece of that bubble
So I'm lookin' at rock videos
Knock-kneeded bimbos walkin' like hoes
You can have them bimbos
I'll keep my women like Flo Jo
A word to the thick soul sistas, I wanna get with ya
I won't cuss or hit ya
But I gotta be straight when I say I wanna *fuck*
Til the break of dawn
Baby got it goin' on
A lot of simps won't like this song
'Cause them punks like to hit it and quit it
And I'd rather stay and play
'Cause I'm long, and I'm strong
And I'm down to get the friction on
So, ladies! {Yeah!} Ladies! {Yeah}
If you wanna role in my Mercedes {Yeah!}
Then turn around! Stick it out!
Even white boys got to shout
Baby got back!

Baby got back!
Yeah, baby ... when it comes to females, Cosmo ain't got nothin'
to do with my selection. 36-24-36? Ha ha, only if she's 5'3".

[Sir Mix-a-Lot]
So your girlfriend rolls a Honda, playin' workout tapes by Fonda
But Fonda ain't got a motor in the back of her Honda
My anaconda don't want none
Unless you've got buns, hun
You can do side bends or sit-ups,
But please don't lose that butt
Some brothers wanna play that "hard" role
And tell you that the butt ain't gold
So they toss it and leave it
And I pull up quick to retrieve it
So Cosmo says you're fat
Well I ain't down with that!
'Cause your waist is small and your curves are kickin'
And I'm thinkin' bout stickin'
To the beanpole dames in the magazines:
You ain't it, Miss Thing!
Give me a sista, I can't resist her
Red beans and rice didn't miss her
Some knucklehead tried to dis
'Cause his girls are on my list
He had game but he chose to hit 'em
And I pull up quick to get wit 'em
So ladies, if the butt is round,
And you want a triple X throw down,
Dial 1-900-MIXALOT
And kick them nasty thoughts
Baby got back!

(Little in the middle but she got much back) [4x]

[finding nobody]

Back
Caught you lookin' for the same thing
It's a new thing check out this I bring
Uh Oh the roll below the level
'Cause I'm livin' low next to the bass C'mon
Turn up the radio
They claim that I'm a criminal
By now I wonder how
Some people never know
The enemy could be their friend guardian
I'm not a hooligan
I rock the party and
Clear all the madness, I'm not a racist
Preach to teach to all
'Cause some they never had this
Number one, not born to run
About the gun...
I wasn't licensed to have one
The minute they see me, fear me
I'm the epitome - a public enemy
Used, abused without clues
I refused to blow a fuse
They even had it on the news
Don't believe the hype...

Yes
Was the start of my last jam
So here it is again, another def jam
But since I gave you all a little something
That we knew you lacked
They still consider me a new jack
All the critics you can hang'em
I'll hold the rope
But they hope to the pope
And pray it ain't dope
The follower of Farrakhan
Don't tell me that you understand
Until you hear the man
The book of the new school rap game
Writers treat me like Coltrane, insane
Yes to them, but to me I'm a different kind
We're brothers of the same mind, unblind
Caught in the middle and
Not surrenderin'
I don't rhyme for the sake of of riddlin'
Some claim that I'm a smuggler
Some say I never heard of 'ya
A rap burgler, false media
We don't need it do we?
It's fake that's what it be to 'ya, dig me?
Don't believe the hype...
Don't believe the hype - its a sequel
As an equal, can I get this through to you
My 98's boomin' with a trunk of funk
All the jealous punks can't stop the dunk
Comin' from the school of hard knocks
Some perpetrate, they drink Clorox
Attack the black, cause I know they lack exact
The cold facts, and still they try to Xerox
Leader of the new school, uncool
Never played the fool, just made the rules
Remember there's a need to get alarmed
Again I said I was a timebomb
In the daytime the radio's scared of me
'Cause I'm mad, plus I'm the enemy
They can't c'mon and play with me in primetime
'Cause I know the time, plus I'm gettin' mine
I get on the mix late in the night
They know I'm livin' right, so here go the mike, sike
Before I let it go, don't rush my show
You try to reach and grab and get elbowed
Word to herb, yo if you can't swing this
Just a little bit of the taste of the bass for you
As you get up and dance at the LQ
When some deny it, defy if I swing bolos
Then they clear the lane I go solo
The meaning of all of that
Some media is the whack
You believe it's true, it blows me through the roof
Suckers, liars get me a shovel
Some writers I know are damn devils
For them I say don't believe the hype
Yo Chuck, they must be on a pipe, right?
Their pens and pads I'll snatch
'Cause I've had it
I'm not an addict fiendin' for static
I'll see their tape recoreder and grab it
No, you can't have it back silly rabbit
I'm going' to my media assassin
Harry Allen, I gotta ask him
Yo Harry, you're a writer, are we that type?
Don't believe the hype
I got flavor and all those things you know
Yeah boy, part two bum rush and show
Yo Griff, get the green black red and
Gold down countdown to Armageddon
-88 you wait the S1Ws will
Rock the hard jams - treat it like a seminar
Teach the bourgeoise, and rock the boulevard
Some sau I'm negative
But they're not positive
But what I got to give...
The media says this

[Disgruntled Youth]

V. Vaughn, the traveling Vaudeville Villain
Who don't give a flying fuck who ain't not feeling him
Watch what ya' dealing him: ace, king, death card
Strong-arm the wrong man, pardon the left, god
Get money and earn it, then everything you touch turn shit
Got much to learn kid, light it up burn shit
Light it up like the Dutch when the hash melt
Only time they see him is when they need him with the cash belt
Ay carumba, now that's my number
One dry summer, as far as I remember
Burnt out, but gaining every edgy penny
Then he hit him straight to the head like Reggie Denny
Call him back when you need some more 'gnac, horse-yak
Doing 80 down the Van Wyck on horseback
Ya' man sick but he wreck tracks, puto
Get back too bro', exactamundo
Viktor the director flip a script like Rob Reiner
The way a lotta dudes rhyme their name should be "knob shiner"
For a buck, they'd likely dance the Jig or do the Hucklebuck
To Vik it's no big deal, they're just a buncha knuckle-fucks
You wonder how well would they hold up in a holding cell
It sorta had the strange makings of a tale told in hell
Like "Oh well," hold tall riches
If the Feds is really after him they'll just tell all the snitches
On borrowed-time rhymes, gassed by the silver screen
They cat like their monkey ass can heal back like Wolverine
Mellow out what y'all bellow out ya' yellow mouth
What happened to the kinda spit that used to help a fellow out?
No doubt, leave a rapper in a body cast
And wonder what he was doing while we was in a karate class
Snotty ass, it's really like he was a white-belt
Right before he "night-night" ask him how the light felt
I wouldn't take their tape if they gave it free
Maybe it's me, maybe it's V!
Throw down the key, y'all know how shit be
In the naked city, rappers is so giddy
That's no ditty, Vaughn so witty
The way he take no prisoners and show no pity
It's how son became a big man from a Black boy
To name names, a really big fan of Dan Akroyd
He feel they need to give him his own dance
This his only chance to shoot the gift like a lone glance
Or like a beef scene that leave the oo-ey smoking
Or between Hoktuo Shinken and Nanto Koukakuken

[Toilet & Bowels]

good call with the vik vaughn

2 Live Crew - "Pop That Pussy"

Verse 1: [fresh kid ice]
There's only one place where we can go
To see freaky hoes doin' shows
Doin' tricks to make us holler
On a giving night, all for a dollar
Silicone breasts, oil on their chest
Nothin' like others, but above the rest
They'll do anything to turn us on
Them hoes got it goin' on!!

[brother marquis]
I like big booty and big ol' titties
Bitch, you know you've been fucked by many
So come and be my private dancer
I got some money if that's the answer
I really wanna be with you;
I get hard after seeing you
How hard? hard like a rock,
When you make that pussy pop!

Chorus (2x): [luke]
Pop that pussy! heyyy!
Pop that pussy, baby!
Pop that pussy!
Pop, pop that pussy, baby!

Verse 2: [fresh kid ice]
Freaky bitches with plenty of ass
Rollin' to the music and shakin' real fast
Bend over backwards, make me shout
And work that pussy, in and out
Movin' their body with plenty of action
Bringin' to the men more satisfaction
Doin' what they feel to turn us out
Just work that pussy all the way out!

[brother marquis]
Shake it! don't break it!
It took your momma nine months to make it
Bend over and spread 'em, girl
Show-w-w me those pussy pearls
Rub that ass and play with that clit
You know i like that freaky shit
Girl, you know you look so cute
Throwin' that pussy the way you do!

Chorus

Verse 3: [fresh kid ice]
Poppin' that pussy's a dance for the ladies
Straight from the south, into the 90's
Freaky bitches are the ones i like
In g-strings in the middle of the night
Smoke-filled stages, bitches in cages
Guards at the door, armed with gauges
As they dance and i get hot,
Keep throwin' that pussy! don't stop!

[brother marquis]
I like the way you lick the champagne glass
It makes me wanna stick my dick in your ass
So come on, baby, and pop it quick
I fall in love when you suck my dick
Bitch, you don't know? you ain't heard?
Fuckin' with me, you're gonna get served
See, none of my bitches, they never complain
So come on, baby, and pop that thang!

Chorus

[luke]
Janet j, pop, that pus-sy!
Bu-bles, pop, that pus-sy!
Sandra p, pop, that pus-sy!
Ma-donna, pop that stinky smelly pussy, baby!

[SpectralJulianIsNotDead]

Do you feel the Kool Keith love?

Taking a patient out of the bathroom into water
That's right, get in the water and touch the electic wires

Hold this... here's some bread!

";Now you tell me how you can live in an apartment, with the pieces
of a person, rotting away with decay and not know?";
";I was totally sick, to tell the truth";
";Washing bones, why were you washing bones?";
";Cause they were smelly";

Think about it, if you was there standing looking at me
What would you do, if I hit your face with dog doodoo?
Smear purple flies on your forehead
Spit in your salad, vomit on your brother's breakfast
Take your ass outside, burn your mother's house
Bring pet mice, and scare your sister with my gray mouse
Then drop him under the bed, and leave him there dead
Take out your parakeet, with scissors, clip his head
Then get the charcoal, whassup, burn your dog's legs
Walk by the barbershop, and hit the glass with eggs
Then go in the club and dance, mix the alcohol
Great with roach spray, here's a drink, have a ball
Dance to the music, watch it party pooper
Yeah, you know...
I'm destructive (4X)

Bash in your head with ten full cans of Campbell's soup
I'm on the roof, I'm not another pigeon out the chicken coop
Stole your checks, and flush money down the toilet bowl
Look at the frog, he's gone too down the commode
War paint on the carpet, your fur was my target
Give the baby some gum, a pack of BubbleYum
Stick it in the rugs, smearing green lightening bugs
all around the walls, down the halls
Checking out doodoo on flame pits, niggaz with they armpits
down, smellin funky, check out the junkie, spit
I'm destructive!! (4X)

Like a green red blue reindeer, dead lying down with a fawn
Copulating, having sex
Mating with a babboon with buffalo wings
Hahahahaha

Like Hitler, the German Shephard, coming down from the Bronx
fighting moose you sound as soft as a goose
We all hang with tickets for Van Halen
Orifice, Autopsy, Def Leppard and Spaz
C'mon, drop the jazz Grateful Dead, rock with it
I'm destructive!!! (3X)

[Toilet & Bowels]

The Infesticons - "Hero Theme"


Ooh, there's big fandango in the wrangle
Ooh, there's loads on loads of g-strings and marble bags
On this beach, leave you speechless
Like no-star Sneetches, like
Brain cells sucked by leeches
Short Beach is the best bash
If I was a woman, I'd demand a tongue-lash
Be tall and blond with ass, like that girl in Splash
Ain't life fantastic?
Switch-gender spastic
Impale the she-male, down some more champale
Bombay chicken cooked like hell
Get arrested for sluttery and make-hell
Posted testicles on virtual e-mail
I'm the nouveau-beat superstar
Super-stealin' in Manhattan
Your girl is cattin':
"I strictly listen to Luscious Jackson"
Aversion to heights, got you froze up like deer in headlights
And purple nights, like Heaven's Gate
Watch the world gyrate -- fuck it
If there's a hole in the bucket, I'll plug it
If your fat body talkin' shit, then I'll slug it
Scared of your girl's clit? I'll suck it
Cheese thick from the bricks, I'll pluck it
I like rhymin' like Mascis
My beats are like molasses
Sweet and slow like Jackie Onassis
With Alzheimer's
Social climbers
Slip on my diarrhea
MCs sound the same, like onomatopoeia

God bless the Infesticons! Fuck the Majesticons!
God bless the Infesticons! Fuck the Majesticons!

Exasperated, systemic miscalculation
Four thousand twisted roads to salvation
Choose one sand-blasted alabaster bastard
Gilded monogram, four heads commanded their commanders
Comin' up flat like South Park Marlon Brandos
Celebrates his Contradicticons
We assume question marks are for morons, but I'm askin'
What floor are we on? Where's the connection?
Disseminated web of 360 degrees of relations
On juxtaposed plantation Soul Station Zebra
This world's a two-foot closet with Taurus, Cancers and Libras
Three Trent Lotts and two Eldridge Cleavers
Five John Wayne Gacies and one Beaver
All out to get cheese like dreamweaver
They cops ain't nothing but lost believers
Hiding out in the Bronx camouflage with a goatee in the season
[scratch] "Nothing less... nothing more"

God bless the Infesticons! Fuck the Majesticons!
God bless the Infesticons! Fuck the Majesticons!
God bless the Infesticons! Fuck the Majesticons!
God bless the Infesticons! Fuck the Majesticons!

[Inhuman]

I won't post the actual lyrics, because that would take up pages in this thread.

-N.W.A - A Bitch iz a Bitch

-Dr.Dre - Forgot about Dre

-Dr.Dre - Let Me Ride

-Dalek - Abscence

-Dalek - A beast caged

-Ghostface Killah - Child's Play

-Wu-Tang Clan - I can't go to sleep

-Noah23 - Lizard Lion Eagle

-Gravediggaz - 1-800-SUICIDE

-Deltron3030 - 3030

-N.W.A - Express Yourself

-Aesop Rock - Daylight (Don't like him too much, but I love these lyrics)

[matt g]

If first you don't succeed try, try again
Step up to the mic and die again
This is the next lifetime and you wanna battle
Either you like reincarnation or the smell of carnations
The sample's the flesh and the beat's the skeleton
You got beef but there's worms in your Wellington
I'll put a hole in your skull and extract your skeleton
Oh my God, said a word twice, Vast Aire, I'm twice as nice
You get caught up, in my blade, might get diced
The flesh is dangerous here
Yo, hahaha, yo, it's Can O, yo
If first you don't succeed try, try again
Step up to the mic and die again
This is the next lifetime and you wanna battle
Either you like reincarnation or the smell of carnations
The sample's the flesh and the beat's the skeleton
You got beef but there's worms in your Wellington
I'll put a hole in your skull and extract your gelatin
Mustard seed faith move mountains
This is jailhouse rap, rock hard
Like faces in a cell block
You'll catch a Kennedy curse from the speedknot
Son, I mack cause I think different
Plus your girl's sex technology, I wanna plug in
Now every golden egg my goose lay stay golden
With your poker face, I punch you in the stomach and you folded
Folded, f-f-folded, folded, f-f-fo-fo-

[RdTv]

Artist: MF Doom is Viktor Vaughn
Album: Venomous Villain
Song: Back End
Typed by: kill4747@Hotmail.com

[MF Doom/Viktor Vaughn]
Dub it off your man, don't spend that ten bucks
I did it for the advance, the back end sucks
It's better than sittin up in a crack den wit the Mac 11
Yellin at your feinds and friends to duck
There's feds at the door, oh it's just Fed Ex
I thought I heard walkie talkies, must've been them redneck
Neighbors of mine they fuckin with they CB
And we in the spot watchin COPS on TV
Blazin greens, thumpin Big's first cd
Drinkin OE, hopin pigs don't see
If they was psychic, they try ta give em the electric chair
It's gettin hectic in here, and it's a election year
Keep this section clear, VIP
Shed a few tears since a knee-hi G
And got more tricks up my sleeve, cough, hick-up cough and sneeze
Make a emcee sick and dry heave weeze
They must be still allergic to a
Real raw rhymer with skills thats surgical
Take the day off and lay off the crazy water
It don't faze V as he lay up wit your lazy daughter..
With your lazy daughter

[MF Doom/Viktor Vaughn]
...Heat the bake, V came to eat your team steak
And for desert, a treat, the green cake
So much sweets it's a dream, it seem fake
These type feinds make your beat machine break
It's on the fritz, put it on the ritz
And watch what he gets, once his mits is on the glitz
A lot of rappers is soft tit, talk shit
They need to do us all a big favor, cawk it
..Spit it like raw grits, get it
They better off forfeit admit it
Relaxin in your town, once the tall quit
V keep comin back with more and more hits..
More hits

[Hip Priest]

From My Philosophy by Boogie Down Productions

who gets weaker?
the king or the teacher
it's not about a salary
it's all about reality
teachers teach and do the world good
kings just rule
and most are never understood

[afterthefact]

Originally Posted by RdTv

Artist: MF Doom is Viktor Vaughn
Album: Venomous Villain
Song: Back End
Typed by: kill4747@Hotmail.com

[MF Doom/Viktor Vaughn]
Dub it off your man, don't spend that ten bucks
I did it for the advance, the back end sucks
It's better than sittin up in a crack den wit the Mac 11
Yellin at your feinds and friends to duck
There's feds at the door, oh it's just Fed Ex
I thought I heard walkie talkies, must've been them redneck
Neighbors of mine they fuckin with they CB
And we in the spot watchin COPS on TV
Blazin greens, thumpin Big's first cd
Drinkin OE, hopin pigs don't see
If they was psychic, they try ta give em the electric chair
It's gettin hectic in here, and it's a election year
Keep this section clear, VIP
Shed a few tears since a knee-hi G
And got more tricks up my sleeve, cough, hick-up cough and sneeze
Make a emcee sick and dry heave weeze
They must be still allergic to a
Real raw rhymer with skills thats surgical
Take the day off and lay off the crazy water
It don't faze V as he lay up wit your lazy daughter..
With your lazy daughter

[MF Doom/Viktor Vaughn]
...Heat the bake, V came to eat your team steak
And for desert, a treat, the green cake
So much sweets it's a dream, it seem fake
These type feinds make your beat machine break
It's on the fritz, put it on the ritz
And watch what he gets, once his mits is on the glitz
A lot of rappers is soft tit, talk shit
They need to do us all a big favor, cawk it
..Spit it like raw grits, get it
They better off forfeit admit it
Relaxin in your town, once the tall quit
V keep comin back with more and more hits..
More hits

wow, how did I know you would be on this thread right away?