[Redman]
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Alright everybody move back from the ropes
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If you don't move back we're gonna turn this music off
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and that's my word, move back!
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Word is bond let's get this shit goin
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Word up, it's the Funk Doc in the house
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say hell yeah! HELL YEAH!
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Say fuck yeah! FUCK YEAH!
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Word up, it's the Funk Doc Spock you don't stop
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It's my man KRS you don't stop
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It's the girl Angie you don't stop
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With the hah haha ha haha hah!!
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[Angie Martinez]
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It's the Butter Pecan Rican speakin deletin
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other radio jocks that think they competin
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they pre-sweetened, like candy, I'm hot like pepper
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Big up to Sandy but my name is Angie
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Martinez, what a true microphone fiend is
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Steppin up lovely with MY, AD-IDAS
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through your speakers, representin
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boriquas, and all hip-hop rhyme seekers
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You may think I'm crazy right, but I'm crazy hype
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Slay this nice y'all, everytime Angie grab the mic
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I jams it right tonight, not the hardest
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But peep the style of this Puerto Rican Goddess
|
|
[Redman]
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Aiyyo yo yo yo, stop the music!
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Aiyyo back up off the ropes, man, word up!
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Yo get from the off the ropes
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Now aiyyo yo yo, KRS-One, come again the selector!
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[KRS-One]
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It's been a long time but we made it, you waited
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You gettin frustrated cause these MC's in trainin
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Skills on the mic for a royalty save it
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Pullin down rap so that others can't make it
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They can't fake it in front of KRS they naked
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That same old MC trend I'm here to break it
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The highly conceptional multidirectional
|
Hot in ninety-seven so I guess I'm flexible
|
Rap relieve stress so yes I guess it's medical
|
All your wrecking and raping is still theoretical
|
Redman, you know you must understand (Whatup?)
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Redman, you know you gots to understand (Hah! Whatup love?)
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Angie, rockin with the one BDP (Ha, haha)
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Representin right now at Hit Factory
|
|
[Redman]
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One two hah, and you don't quit
|
It's Kris and Angie with the ultimate
|
One two hah, and you don't quack
|
It's Funk Doc smoke weed and don't smoke crack
|
Hahaha, hah, and you don't quit
|
Hoohahhahah, and you don't quit
|
I rock jams like, Samsonites with mics
|
Stage two boomin system and flood the lights
|
The lyrical, fo'-fo's lettin off like suppose
|
Reggie Reg is rockin on the ra-dioooo!
|
Hahh, huh, the oooh-child too chill
|
Caps peeled, Someone In My Bed like Dru Hill
|
Raise em up, cause I feel my spot can't be touched
|
No time for the Pauline jack, hit the clutch
|
Shotgun what?? It's the high exalted
|
Ruler of the buddha, the cash make my pockets
|
stick out like a tumor, for the consumers
|
I get busy with La Pluma, detonate the bomb
|
to make you hibernate sooner, certified luna-tic
|
My click run deeper than Charlie Tuna
|
Kahunas, raw for the able key movers
|
all over the hood like them Crooked I coolers
|
Bang maneuvers, from Jerz to Vancouver
|
Back to the Bronx with heartbeats ample looped up
|
I Blastmast like Kris, funk abyss
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like a phone chauvenist with a Roley on the wrist
|
Sike! I can afford it, less I slaughtered
|
three platinum niggaz and none of em prerecorded
|
KRS-One need to be runnin for office
|
So Butter Pecan Rican -- tell them to get off his
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|
-----------------
|
Heartbeat
|
| KRS-One |
