FAVE TRACK based on LYRICAL STEEZ
Mr_Lee_PHD
2,042 Posts
I gotta say my fave, due to the consistent crazy lyrical approach factor all the way through, is:Beastie Boys - Sure Shot[/b]They are dropping some wild similies (comparisons by use of the word 'like' or 'as' (one of my fave aspects of hip hop lyricism))."I'm A Newlywed I'm Not A Divorcee yeahAnd Everything I Do Is Funky Like Lee Dorsey""I Got More Action Than My Man John WooAnd I Got Mad Hits Like I Was Rod Carew"Second, is Ugly Duckling - We're Here[/b]Andy's rhyme scheme is WILD on this one.REP YOURS.[/b]
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Straight up shit is real and any day could be your last in the jungle
Get murdered on the humble, guns'll blast, niggaz tumble
The corners is the hot spot, full of mad criminals
who don't care, guzzlin beers, we all stare
at the out-of-towners (Ay, yo, yo, who that?) They better break North
before we get the four pounders, and take their face off
The streets is filled with undercovers, homicide chasin brothers
The D.A.'s on the roof, tryin to, watch us and knock us
And killer coppers, even come through in helicopters
I drink a little vodka, spark a L and hold a Glock for
the fronters, wannabe ill niggaz and spot runners
Thinkin it can't happen til I, trap em and clap em
and leave em done, won't even run about Gods
I don't believe in none of that shit, your facts are backwards
Nas is a rebel of the street corner
Pullin a Tec out the dresser, police got me under pressure
Represent, represent!! (repeat 4X)
Yo, they call me Nas, I'm not your legal type of fella
Moet drinkin, marijuana smokin street dweller
who's always on the corner, rollin up blessed
When I dress, it's never nuttin less than Guess
Cold be walkin with a bop and my hat turned back
Love committin sins and my friends sell crack
This nigga raps with a razor, keep it under my tongue
The school drop-out, never liked the shit from day one
cause life ain't shit but stress fake niggaz and crab stunts
So I guzzle my Hennesey while pullin on mad blunts
The brutalizer, crew de-sizer, accelerator
The type of nigga who be pissin in your elevator
Somehow the rap game reminds me of the crack game
Used to sport Bally's and Gazelle's with black frames
Now I'm into fat chains, sex and Tecs
Fly new chicKs and new kicks, Heine's and Beck's
every little bit hurts - especially the gladys knight version
uptown - little eva
gong gong song - ikettes
black steel - pe
queen b - lil kim
cream - wu tang
game of love - ike and tina
armagideon time - willie williams
compared to what - roberta flack
things done changed - biggie
message from a black man - take your pick
but beautiful - nina simone
mississippi goddamn - nina simone
i can do this all day but i gotta work
Kind of a chore to look at
Doris has had some things go wrong in her little life
And they show on her face
There are things she doesn't talk about
There are things she only tells her mom
There are things she never tells anyone
There are things in Doris's life
But then there are in everyone's
Then she opens her little mouth
She sings her little song like a flag
It folds out across the city
And it goes [sound indicating sound of song]
The fat man becomes an ice-skater
A maniac becomes a stepfather
I watch a policeman's mouth
Out comes an honest word
Miracles happen when Doris sings
Couples in love stop dead in their tracks
Dishes clatter to the ground unbroken
Politicians die
She watches as her son becomes an imbecile
She watches as her son becomes a vegetable
She watches as her son becomes a senator
Watches as her only son becomes an imbecile
And it makes her cry
She waves her little song like a flag
It goes out across the city
Miracles happen
And I am in love with the sound [sound indicating sound of song]
I swear I didn't say anything
He just followed me in there
It was like "What the...?"
And he just took my shirt up
And we just... right, right there on the sink
I was so drunk I was dizzy
And she was in the kitchen
While we were downstairs fucking
And she called me a bitch
And I tried to tell her it was nothing
I gotta stop drinking around men
They take advantage of it
I don't want all men to use me
For their own satisfaction
I'm really drunk
There's nobody over
Why don't you come by
You'll like it
You want to stay up with me?
We can buy a pizza
I gotta stop drinking around men
They just wanna bust a nut
I hate it when they're on top and
They all have little dicks
I think I'll head out of town
Where, where I really can find some peace
I'll maybe move to another country
Where men don't have such small dicks
Maybe if I buy a house or an apartment
Maybe with a bottle of wine
I'll call you up and
We'll have a real wild time
Remember what it used to be like
When, when all we did was eat and fuck?
I let you shave my pussy
You let me paint your dick
You were always late for work
You said it didn't matter
And after a while
I guess it, I guess it did start to matter
I gotta stop drinking around men
They take advantage of me
They all wanna use me
For there own satisfaction
I gotta stop drinking around men
They just wanna bust a nut
I hate it when they lay on top of me
They have such little dicks
I'm like Malcolm out the window with the joint
Hoodied up blood in my eye , a lead to fly
Like fuck it (2 gunshots) , look how these niggas duck shit
One kid hollerin what lookin up , he the big wig
Fake ass cat , low life , sodomize mind
Beatin niggas , big bricks of bread sellin mad dimes
His feet hurt , networkin he get no work
Yo smack him where his hand hurt , fuck what he worth
Yo he sucked his thumb smooth for the kid laced with the big guns
Stain to my Baltimore niggas that he on the run
Plus he ill in the drums , heartburn for life , calcium man
Watch him grab the Tums , he's a front
Pigeon totalist sister with the fat ass
Show hash behind up the block plus he smashed her
Big Bub did him somethin deadly , act premedidtated
Buck 60 strike was the medley
Nice like Van Halen , seen him at the tunnel with his skin peelin
Did two days thought he was jailin
You get close , look at his hands
That's the same kid that cut his wrists , talkin bout the cuffs did it
He ran away , frontin majorly , eyes like Sammy Davis jr.
Rounded off with a fade g , he sport the Bob Hope classics
Ran down Asics , Kmart , the short sleeve shit be the basics
He eat hams shitted on himself twice , big hatted Jews
Rushed the nigga out in Crown Heights
CHORUS:
Yo let me tell you how the game go
We gettin rid of all the prostitutes
Tony wants the streets back fo sho
Too many hustlers , too many thieves
We're fuckin up who's willin to fight and teach the c's
Too much TV , guns and robberies
Lust and greed and hate the 4 devils jealousy
Yo I champunch Mase in his face over some bullshit
The other night they kidnapped his brother pokin it with knives
It's rainin , 85 degrees kinda muggy
One of the nights you throw on that face it's real ugly
Yo we up in Jonesy's posin , all these niggas know me
>From fuckin wit , under theses niggas heavy parolees
Yo we played the speaker
And from a distance we could see these chains
The P slayed , flat on his chest , was two plains
Ashy hands yo , no need for rings at all
He just cracked the V8 backed up , leaned against the wall
Lookin flower , he just came home , he on like a fuck
Did a dime for holdin up the gods up in the armored truck
Ten years later son 280 on the weight tip
He throwin up six plates plus he studied Matrix
He's a wally horse shout it out sweatin through his valor
Cock-eyed nigga back up his neck he had shores
Sammy eagerly rode up on him , taxi off the turkey with the joint
On him
Flower look his man stood up before him
The bitches hit the table , Jah king stripped off his cables
Shots went off , Sam'll get a chance to make his debut
Flower grabbed Tiff his man with the sideburns , hat fell off
We nerd his wigworms , he hid behind Rich
See Allah hit the light switch , young girls were trampled
In the measured pool , pistol with Mase , and broke the handle
Desperate crawlin to the door on all fours
Shim kicked the jukebox the theme song rode in was "It's Yours"
Oh my goodness , Ba grabbed the Mo bottle thrashin
He layin like a gay models shoutin out Sebastian
He smiled with his teeth missin begging for mercy
No more god , the 68 thousand down a pair of three
Out came the cannon , whistled out zaggin
Cham snatched his flag four big rocks enter the dragon
It's over , another story told
Lyin with the snakes , tongue kissin cobras
Through the frames in ya glasses
Quick passage
Leave your dome piece backless, envision blackness
Leave you hatless fucking capless
Watchin niggas dig the spot where the Earth's crack is
Hard to graph like science and math is
The cavemen who dont practice and live backwards
We oxen
With streets is watchin release shotguns
Niggas got Dietz and Watson
Feel no love
No way you shield the slugs
The ill thugs
We box with steel gloves
Doubt my faith you can taste the slug case
Leaving niggas looking like dogs with the pug face
Even your girl can catch the capsule I love pussy
But never the bitch that its attached to
Watching all the people die
I'll feel much better on the other side
I'll thumb a ride
I believe in magic
Why, because it is so quick
I don't need power when I'm hypnotized
Look in my eyes
What are you seeing (I see...)
How do you feel?
(...you)
I feel real phony when my name is
phil
Or was that bill?
Life goes on here
Day after day
I don't know if I am living or if i'm
Supposed to be
Sometimes my life is so eerie
And if you think I'm happy
Paint me (white)(yellow)
I've been here once
I've been here twice
I don?' know if the third's the fourth or if the -
The fifth's to fix
Sometimes I deal with numbers
And if you wanna count me
Count me out
I don't need the time of day
Anytime with me's ok
I just don't want you using up my time
cause that's not right
They're locking them up today
They're throwing away the key
I wonder who it'll be tomorrow, you or me?
We're all normal and we want our freedom
Freedom... freedom... freedom... freedom
Freedom... freedom... freedom... freedom
alla god?s chilluns gotta have dere freedom
oh hell yes
But um I got more flavors than a pack of Now and Laters
Beg your pardon, Mr. keebler, but I love Vanilla Wafers
Plus I zitz em, I zamz em, I grams em like Zorro
I shot the Dagazino for a bag of Stella Doro
that + pete rock remix =
yeah I was about to say...
Up The Junction - The Squeeze
Childlike Faith at Childhood's End - Van Def Graaf Generator
The Slim - Sugar
The MC - KRS-One
Hard Like A Criminal - Das Efx
Remember Me? - Eminem, Sticky Fingaz & RBX
Apollo Kids - Ghostface Killah
On the strength, Linda Thompson Jenner's lyrics to Voices that Care, the celebrity benefit song for Operation Desert Storm.
VOICES THAT CARE
Warner Brothers (1991)
Lonely fear lights up the sky,
Can't help but wonder why
You're so far away.
There, you had to take a stand,
In someone else's land,
Life can be so strange.
I wish we never had to choose,
To either win or lose,
That we could find a way. . .
But I won't turn my back again.
Your honor I'll defend
So hurry home, and 'til then. . .
Chorus:
Stand tall; Stand proud!
Voices that care are crying out loud.
And when you close your eyes tonight,
Fell in your heart how our love burns bright.
I'm not here to justify the cause.
Or to count up all the loss,
That's all been done before.
I just can't let you feel alone
When there's so much love at home
We're sending out to you.
All the courage that you've known
The bravery you've shown
Clearly lights the way.
We pray! To make the future bright,
To make the wrong things right,
Right or wrong, we're all praying you remain strong,
That's why we're all here and singing along.
(repeat chorus)
You are the voice
You are the light
(repeat chorus twice)
"Street's disciple, my raps are trifle
I shoot slugs from my brain just like a rifle
Stampede the stage, I leave the microphone split
Play Mr. Tuffy while I'm on some Pretty Tone shit
Verbal assassin, my architect pleases
When I was twelve, I went to hell for snuffin Jesus
Nasty Nas is a rebel to America
Police murderer, I'm causin hysteria
My troops roll up with a strange force
I was trapped in a cage and let out by the Main Source
Swimmin in women like a lifeguard
Put on a bulletproof nigga I strike hard
Kidnap the President's wife without a plan
And hangin niggaz like the Ku Klux Klan
I melt mics till the sound waves over
Before steppin to me you'd rather step to Jehovah
Slammin MC's on cement
Cause verbally, I'm iller than a AIDS patient
I move swift and uplift
your mind shoot the gift when I riff in rhyme
Rappin sniper, speakin real words
My thoughts react, like Steven Spielberg's
Poetry attacks, paragraphs punch hard
My brain is insane, I'm out to lunch God
Science is dropped, my raps are toxic
My voicebox locks and excels like a rocket"
Freindly game of baseball and Looking out the front door!!!!!!!! Batches and Gangstarr off the whiteman can't jump soundtrack and all Kool Keith lyrics off the 1st two lps, and KRS South Bornx and the Brigde is over...
Happy Hour - Peter Hammill
Fuelled by alcohol,
shooting out words like a rocket,
like a prophet out of Babylon
method acting the absurd....
Shoot me those highballs
till I'm lit up like I'm plugged in a socket;
lock me eyeball to eyeball,
let's not bother with the words.
Oh, bring on the clowns, bring on the night,
pour me double vision in black and white.
I'm falling, falling - don't give me that look!
I'm falling, falling, it's the oldest trick in the book,
My chickadee, my passion flower,
show me the way to the Happy Hour.
I don't like to see that:
oh, no, I don't like the way the hand is shaking,
shape-making like an acrobat
on his way to the trapeze.
My friends in the crowd
are all taking bets -
they're taking away the safety net.
Falling, falling - don't give me that look!
I'm falling, only falling, it's the oldest trick in the book,
vertigo on the high-wire tower -
is this really what they mean by 'Happy Hour`?
The line between the social and the suicidal
so fine he might not know when he's crossed it,
when he's lost it;
when the social kick becomes the gauging-stick of survival.
So here's to the circus,
let's drink to the game of forgetting
the marionette strings that jerk us,
the real world just outside the door.
I know that my legs have gone
and I know that the light here is far from perfect...
I've rehearsed it, so I'll carry on
until I wind up on the floor.
My friends in the bar
will stand me a round,
they'll toast me on my way to the underground.
I'm falling, falling - don't give me that look!
I'm falling, only falling, it's the oldest trick in the book,
My chickadee, my passion flower,
show me the way to the Happy Hour.
Vertigo on the high-wire tower -
is this really what they mean by 'Happy Hour`?
Put on the greasepaint, we're getting ready for Happy Hour.
Do you hear me now? Can you feel me now?
I'm in the middle of Happy Hour...
Put on the greasepaint.
I can't even tell you how much I loved this schitt when I first heard this song. That and the part about the dude with sores on the back of his head. Ghostdini =
that shit is still