Turn up the bass, check out my melody, hand out a cigar
|
I'm lettin knowledge be born, and my name's the R
|
A-k-i-m, not like the rest of them, I'm not on a list
|
That's what I'm sayin, I drop science like a scientist
|
My melody's in a code, the very next episode
|
Has the mic often distortin', ready to explode
|
I keep the mic at Fahrenheit, freeze MC's to make 'em colder
|
The listener's system is kickin' like solar
|
As I memorize, advertise, like a poet
|
Keep you goin' when I'm flowin', smooth enough, you know with the rough
|
That's why the moral of my story I tell'll be
|
Nobody beats the R, check out my melody
|
|
So what, I'm a microphone fiend addicted soon as I seen
|
One of these four MC's so they don't have to scream
|
I couldn't wait to take the mic, flow into it to test it,
|
Let 'My Melody' play, then a record suggest it
|
I'm droppin bombs, but I stay peace and calm
|
Any MC that disagree with me wave your arm
|
And I'll break, when I'm through breakin' I'll leave you broke
|
Drop the mic when I'm finished and watch it smoke
|
So stand back, you wanna rap? All of that can wait
|
I won't push, I won't beat around the bush
|
I wanna break upon those who are not supposed to
|
You might try but you can't get close to
|
Because I'm number one, competition is none
|
I'm measured with the heat that's made by sun
|
'Cause I'm playin ball or bobbin' in the hall
|
Or just writin my name in graffiti on the wall
|
You shouldn't have told me you said you controlled me
|
So now a contest is what you owe me
|
Pull out your money, pull out your cut
|
Pull up a chair, and I'm a tear shit up
|
My name is Rakim Allah, and R and A stands for Ra
|
Switch it around, it still comes out R
|
So easily will I e-m-c-e-e
|
My repetition of words is check out my melody
|
Some bass and treble is moist, scratch in and cut in a voice
|
And when it's mine that's when the rhyme is always choice
|
I wouldn't a came and said my name and run same weak shit
|
Puttin' blurbs and slurs and words that don't fit
|
In a rhyme, why waste time on the microphone
|
I take this more serious than just a poem
|
Rockin party to party, backyard to yard
|
I tear it up, y'all, and bless the mic for the gods
|
|
The rhyme is rugged, at the same time sharp
|
I can swing off anything even a string of a harp
|
Just turn it on and start rockin, mine, no introduction
|
'Til I finish droppin science, no interruption
|
When I approach I exercise like a coach
|
Usin' a melody and add new verse(?) and notes
|
So when the mic and the R-a-k-i-m
|
It's attached, like a match I will strike again
|
Rhymes are poetically kept and alphabetically stepped
|
Put in a order to pursue with the momentum except
|
I say one rhyme out of order, a longer rhyme shorter,
|
A pause, but don't stop the tape recorder
|
|
I'm not a regular competitor, first rhyme editor
|
Melody arranger, poet, etcetera
|
Extra event, the grand finale-like bonus
|
I am the man they call the microphonist
|
With wisdom, which means wise words bein' spoken
|
Too many at one time watch the mic start smokin'
|
I came to express the rap I manifest
|
Stand in my way and I'll veto on the word's protest
|
MC's that wanna be vissed(?), they're gonna
|
Be dissed if they don't get from in fronta
|
All they can go get is me a glass of Moet
|
A hard time, sip your juice and watch a smooth poet
|
I take 7 MC's put 'em in a line
|
And add 7 more brothas who think they can rhyme
|
Well, it'll take 7 more before I go for mine
|
Now that's 21 MC's ate up at the same time
|
Easy does it, do it easy, that's what I'm doin'
|
No fessin', no messin' around, no chewin'
|
No robbin', no buyin', bitin', why bother
|
This slob'll stop tryin', fightin' to follow
|
My unusual style will confuse you a while
|
And if I was water, I'd flow in the Nile
|
So many rhymes you won't have time to go for yours
|
Just because of applause I have to pause
|
Right after tonight is when I prepare
|
To catch another sucka duck MC out there
|
'Cause my strategy has to be tragedy, catastrophe
|
And after this you'll call me your majesty
|
My melody
|
|
Yes, my melody
|
Eric B.
|
|
Marley Marl synthesized it, I memorize it
|
Eric B. made a cut and advertised it
|
My melody's created for MC's in the place
|
They try to listen cuz I'm dissin them so pick up your face
|
Shook off your neck cuz you try to detect my pace
|
Now you're buggin', almost doggin' off my rhyme-like bass
|
The melody that I'm stylin', smooth as a violin
|
Rough enough to break New York from Long Island
|
My wisdom is swift, no matter if
|
My momentum is slow, MC's still stand stiff
|
I'm genuine like leather - reclined to be clever
|
MC, you'll beat the R, I'll say "Oh never"
|
So Eric B., cut it easily and
|
check out my melody...
|
|
-----------------
|
My Melody (Clean Original Mix)
|
| Eric B. & Rakim |