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Boogie Down Productions lyrics - Ghetto Music: The Blueprint of Hip Hop

Gimme Dat (Woy)

Original and similar lyrics
[KRS One] + [somebody beatboxing] Let me tell you bout a crew I know [ba BUM BUM] Called Boogie Down Productions and they steal the show [ba BUM BUM] With DJ Scott LaRock and KRS One [ba bum ba ba bum ba bum ba bum bababababababababa] With D Nice you know the job is done and I know [boom ba bum] oh yes I know [ba boom ba bum] I know because I'm KRS One yo check this out [beatbox continues in the background] [KRS-One] Breath control.. here's an example I appeal, to the +Criminal Minded+ You can't find it, boy you're still blinded Why don't you open your eyes and stop DISSIN Get a prescription to listen Sit in the class and ask real fast about a FRESH RAP You're gettin left back, set back, kept back Get back, I don't accept that material Your rhymes are artificially flavored like cereal I like clarity, so when you come here speak clear and concise and then I might give a little slack to.. nah, wait - I take that back If you're wack, I'll slap, FUCK THAT! Boogie Down Productions back, simply cause we never left the radical sounds of KRS What a mess, to roll up and then 'fess Wild guess huh, you thought you were the best? But - yup yup - as it always turns out You get burned out, your rhymes just run out I immediately come out, BOOMIN dope and don't provoke, you're walkin a very thin rope Not even rope, the word I'm lookin for is string When I sing, I sing to try and bring enlightenment, yet the suckers be bitin it Radio's fightin it, the fans be likin it Your face I'm wipin it, cause your mouth is dirty You're unworthy to THINK that you can serve me You heard me? These styles are universal You need rehearsal, wait, first I'll beef up the system, rhyth, rhymin, timin, climbin Then realizing As producer of this dope record huh I think it's time we break for a second Breath control.. [KRS-One] That's it, that's it, that's it Break is over, back to the track Resume attack, on the crews that are wack We don't lack, I mean, we don't like the played out styles when we're rockin the mic The radical rebel at level fifteen The amp only goes to ten, you know what I mean? As it seems, it seems that you're doomed Yes I'll boom and consume the WHOLE room Not a part, not a fraction or a sum but ALL, capital KRS-One B-D-B-D-B-D-B-D-P Takin MC's out constantly! Because you're no big deal, you're no big wheel You steal, come before me and kneel but I'm not a king, I'm not a queen, I'm not a ace I'm not a jack, I'm not a MC or a playboy and I just ain't wack I feel that you should get an understanding You might be jamming, but KRS-One is slamming Hypothetically, or in reality Takin you out, is a SMALL technicality Rhymes like these, or rhymes like THIS ONE comes in handy, while I diss some soft silly low budget sucker like yourself I got the style you need, in my house on the shelf labelled, sucker boy style I like to do it every once in a while..

You're A Customer

EPMD "Strictly Business"
[Erick Sermon] Knick knack patty whack give a dog a bone Yo, don't give him nothing but a microphone Don't stop, I'm not finished yet You said I'm not the E, you wanna make a bet? Remember this: Lounge, you in the danger zone I figured you would, now leave me alone You pick and you wish on a four-leaf clover To be the E double E over and over You're intrigued by the way I do my thing (Do what?) Pick up the mic high and make it swing [PMD] I have the capability to rap and chill Cold wax and tax MC's who tend to act ill It's like a Diggum Smack Smack me and I'll smack you back I get goosebumps when the bassline thumps A sucker MC arrives, now it's time for lunch When I'm cooling on the scene, I notice one thing I'm not Bounce, so sucker MC's cling I consider myself better than average Yo, I rock the mic like a wild beast savage [Erick Sermon] I'm in the bottling state, I can't concentrate I make a move like chess, and then I yell checkmate You know why I get zanier and zanier? Because of EPMD mania When I walk through the crowd I can see heads turning I hear voices saying That's Erick Sermon Not only from the women, but from the men You know what? It feels good, my friend [PMD] I'm the P double E, the Thrilla of Manilla Better known as the MC cold killer PMD cold keeps the place jumping And if not then we feel like we owe you something Like lotto, you have to be in it to win it But if the beat is fresh then Diamond J will spin it If J spin it, then it has to be fresh To make you dance until there's no one left Cause you a customer [Erick Sermon] Praying like a prey when the fox in action I smell blood, no time for maxing Camoflauge in the green, my back is arc Plus you in trouble cause it's after dark My eyes close like Steve Austin, I got you in the square I won't let you run, nah, that ain't fair So I clear my visions until I can spot him Snatch him by the neck and say Hmmm I got him [PMD] Whenever MC's, you're in over your head My rhymes are hungry plus they haven't been fed The process of elimination is quite simple Let you grow like a blackhead and pop you like a pimple Slice you like lettuce, toss you like a salad Revoke your MC license if your rhymes ain't valid As we go on, sucker MC's sound wacker Like a parrot says Polly want a cracker [Erick Sermon] It was a record test, nothing we can't handle At the house they had the mics on the mantle Looked at the DJ and said May I? Lit it up like the Fourth of July Because I float like a butterfly, sting like a bee Woah, I'm the E of EPMD I have a strong point of view on the way things run Just shut up and listen and learn my son [PMD] Absorb that ass like Bounty, the quicker picker upper To tell you up front, you're nothing but a sucker The style we're using, no doubt copastetic You try to bite and yet sound pathetic Design my rhymes like a taylor, floatin' like a sailor As the P gets stronger, MC's get staler Not bragging or protagging, surely not fagging MC's surrender, raise the flags and Give up the titles because the signs are vital I keep a voice tuned at a slow and swift idle You a customer [Erick Sermon] I need a man meal sandwich, yes I need Manwich I feel good, now it's time to do damage I feel like balanced, you know what I mean? Wanna rhyme one time, to release the steam When I grab the mic I get dramatic like an actor You know why I get over? I'm the master I do a show, pack it in til it's clamming up Look for the microphone then jam it up [PMD] You said you see me jamming in New York Tech You got one right fella, you deserve a check How did you know, you must have been jocking How do you know the places I be rocking? Don't follow me fella, every move that I make I'm hostile now so I'll give you a break Well search upon me but don't go past the limit Here's a card and on the back is my fan club digits [Erick Sermon] There's two things to check out in the words that I'm saying Plus listen to the good time playing Bro is bad, the strings he's plucking Fire rhyme after rhyme, watch MC's duck and [PMD] MC's, the final countdown You look tired, can you go the round? If you can, I'll slap your hand and give you credit And if not, I'll turn around and say Forget it [Erick Sermon] People say that I'm a party pooper To tell the truth I'm a born trooper You a customer

Killing Spree

Defari "Focused Daily"
[Defari] A different caliber of MC This track is filthy, word to O.J., you make me feel guilty of first degree soundbwoy murder Unlike anything out of L.A. you ever heard of Word up, you play with fire, you'll get burned up Best believe that my shit sound the best, when it's turned up Loud, mashin down the block suburban style Eighteen speakers plus kit chromed out Yo, you think that you fuckin pro? On the low the other night I caught your wack-ass stage show Oh.. boy, you're just a bore But you tell everybody that you're like Busta and you got Rhymes Galore Mmm mmm mmm, ain't that somethin? Got the nerve to call yourself an MC, man you be frontin I don't apologize, oh yeah, and uh go back to school, learn some concepts and grammar Of yourself, get a hold Next time you on stage, use Primatine for some breath control (Ha ha ha) But now don't let asthma be the excuse You was definitely doper, when no one knew you [Chorus 2X: Defari] I'm on a killing spree, murder soundbwoy constantly Constantly murder wack MC I'm on a killing spree, skill level at maximum Dem pussy-clat bwoy nah wanna see me [Defari] You was stone cold lyin by the full wack rhyme writin If I had some gasoline I'd ignite it, with my lighter.. .. BOOM! You combust, cause you disgust me Wacker than them flat-ass crackers on Three's Company You walk around, mad cause no one's feelin you Mad at me, cause all your peoples they know my lyrics too They sing along cause my song bumps on the mix tapes that YOU made, yet and still you try to playa hate (What?) You're featherweight, weaker than a paper plate Lyrically, when compared to me, I know your style is fake Fraud, manufactures, cheaper than Hyundai Now you're hardcore you probably used to be a true nerd guy Make up your mind guy, now you're the Mr. Get High guy If you ever step to me you'll think French because you're fuckin fried in the mix of my verbal assault fightin sticks You shouldn't gamble cause round for round you can't handle this [Chorus] [Defari] Cat was out of pocket, got socked in his jaw Fell to the floor, that's all she wrote But I wrote rhymes, that burn every time On mad mix shows I got wreck off the mind But what's in a rhyme, if it don't sound tight? You ask me if a lot of rappers are wack man you DAMN right Who's to say these brothers from L.A. will take charge like DeBarge and shine, in a special way? I say okay, let's get paid Let's put this money on Putnam and sip bombays with dis lemonade Use, Gatorade to refuel electrolytes after I ignite this mic too Yo what's my name? Defari Herut By the way since you been askin all these questions who the hell are you? I seen your kind before, no lie A devil spy, disguised as an ambassador You can't fool the Divine Sun Rule Word to blue magic - step right up - and see the Likwit Crew Hurry hurry, get your tickets, stand in line After the show it's at the Towers on Sunset and Vine Me and my niggaz at the bar sippin Henny Got your bitch open all night, as if her name was Denny's [Chorus] - 2X

To Da Break Of Dawn

LL COOL J "Mama Said Knock You Out"
Yeah (To da break of dawn) All my sex involved As we get funky Rhymes so bizarre Everybody knows When it come to a situation like this Little more effects And I can't resist So we get funky in the house Youknowmsayin L.L. Cool J style What This ain't on a pop tip Check it out [ VERSE 1 ] [ dissing Kool Moe Dee ] What is a panther A animal that kills I'm like a shark with blood comin out the gills You could never in your wildest dreams Get a piece of this gangsta lean straight from Queens Strong as liquor, to be seen in a limousine Now you're gettin done without Vaseline Wouldn't bite because your rhymes are puppy chow Made another million, so competators bow Homeboy, hold on, my rhymes are so strong Nothing could go wrong, so why do you prolong Songs that ain't strong, brother, you're dead wrong And got the nerve to have them Star Trek shades on Ha, you can't handle the whole weight Skin needs lotion, teeth need Colgate Wise up, you little burnt up french fry I'm that type of guy And I slammed you know, just like a sumo Put him in pampers, leave my drawers in his hamper When I'm through, you need a brand-new identity I was scoopin girls before you lost your virginity Your jam is just a dreamin MC scheme Gettin crushed by a L.L. theme Somethin like Shaft, put you in a cask' - bo! You little blood-clot boy, you must not know The rep I keep, the MC's I peep, sweep, play cheap And freak with a chic unique technique Get rid of the yukmouth smile Cause brother, you ain't got no style Keep on (To da break of dawn) (To da break of dawn) Yeah Keep on (To da break of dawn) Hey yo, that's kinda funky But check this out here (Rock that shit) (To da break of dawn) Yeah... [ VERSE 2 ] [ dissing M.C. Hammer ] Immaculate styles I use to abuse MC's, so light the fuse And spread the news, you lose To the damager, microphone manager Cold crush and bruise and bandage a amateur That amateur swingin a hammer >From a body bag, so run and get your camera Get a flick of the stiff dead-shot to get swift But I'm the wrong brother to dance with Cause I don't need a partner to swing Keep your eyes on the Cool J ring Shootin the gift, but you just don't shoot it right You couldn't bust a grape in a fruit fight Wouldn't throw a rock in a ghost town So don't try to play post, clown You know the L.L.'s back in town And all the wanna-be sherrifs is gettin shot down (_shot_) Gimme that microphone I'ma show you the real meaning of the danger zone Stop dancin, get to walkin Shut your old mouth when young folks is talkin Huh, you little snake in the grass You swing a hammer, but you couldn't break a glass Gimme a lighter - woof! Now you're cut loose From that jherri curl juice Cool J is back on the map And when I see ya, I'ma give you a slap That's right, a little kick for that crap Cause my old gym teacher ain't supposed to rap Keep on (To da break of dawn) Yeah (To da break of dawn) Funk it up I said keep on (To da break of dawn) (Yo, rock that shit) (To da break of dawn) Check this out Yeah... [ VERSE 3 ] [ dissing Ice-T ] How dare you stand beside me I'm Cool, I freeze I-c-e On your trail and I'ma cut that bull tail You're disobedient with the wrong ingredients But I'ma drink you down over the rocks While I freak on your album cover jocks You're gonna hear a real ill paragraph soon I took the cover right home to the bathroom In the immortal words of L.L., 'hard as hell' Your broad wears it well She's the reason that your record sold a few copies But your rhymes are sloppy Like Oscar, and you're bound to get dropped And stopped, I ain't Murray the cop Nor am I Felix, but I got a bag of tricks Mr. Pusherman, gimme a fix So I can show you I'm immune to them romper room tunes You little hip-hop racoon I'm not Scarface, but I want more beef Before you rapped you was a downtown car thief Workin in a parking lot A brother with a perm deserves to get burned So tell me how you like your coat cream On a cone, in a bowl, or in a wet dream With your tv on channel fuzz Uncle L, that's how much damage he does Here's 5 dollars, catch a taxi cab Take your rhymes around the corner to the rap rehab Keep on (To da break of dawn) Yeah (To da break of dawn) I say keep on (To da break of dawn) Just wanted to funk it up a little bit My man Pete Rock is up in the crib Youknowmsayin Over here at Marley Marl house Just coolin out My man Clash in the house Sippin on this Bartles & Jaymes premium piece flavor out the cooler Loungin back Keep on Peace


It's the Urban Organic, Mic mechanic Super-human MC powers help me fly around the planet. Touch the Microphone device, whole countries get frantic Saving damsels in distress so young girls don't panic. Putting MCs under pressure till they crack like ceramic Always thought they could flow but sink like the Titanic. Rhymes rip through your skull like icebergs through the hull Survive the impact, and arctic cold freezes your soul. Create a new style, then break the mold Compositions are controlled, and liable to explode like land mines, my crew blows through like wind chimes. Make it hot like fire, 200 proof like Moonshine. Whisky, playing yourself is risky And the flows mad jazzy like Dizzy Gillespe. And the sound be harmonious and deadly like a harpy call either break one like Wayne Gretzky. No man can test me, so why try? Focus like a samurai, stronger than a Maitai. Or a Tsunama... I mean Tsunami I rock it from MTV, to the BBC. Radioactive waves short out your TV LESB check it for me in the next galaxy. Put it in a time capsule till the next century In a black out use it for electricity. Danger, high voltage Don't feed me their daily dosage I break it down mathematically, 99.9 is a percentage. Like clothes and fine wine my rhymes are vintage And the Universe will give me strength like spinach. With Danish, I eat it like a tofu sandwich With cabbage, I ask your girl, she knows that I'm not the average... Nigga... who plays to pull the trigga' Reality's the root of the rhymes that I configure. Phony... Baloney, swear like Don Corleone But when shit hit the fan they start crying like Pretty Tony. Tender like Roni... but wish to be bad like Bobby Been there, done that, smashed up Rockin' rhymes is my hobby. You're probably, like, what's he on Cause I rock it from the start, till the beat is gone. Not in the mafia but I'm the Microphone Don And the words that I shoot out my mouth are Teflon. Jeru never touch ya, Microphone wrecka' Meet out in the stretcha'. Step up in... my center Try to match wits but the mentor will crush you Jeru the Damager, the Suntoucher.

Funny Style

Tha Alkaholiks "Likwidation"
J-Ro: Yo, I'm from Killa Cali I wrote this rhyme in an alley The tall can MC stepping fresh out the valley I'm hella fresh comin straight through your chest I blow a hole in you soul, I'm constantly on a roll Cuz in order to survive, you gots to have drive Like a rental, but I'ma call you Ben cuz you gentle My crew's blowin up like a Pinto Hip hop's gettin rotten but we stay fresh like a Mento So put it in your mouth We gonna show you what this rap shit is really all about We gonna turn this bitch out like Goldie This cut will still bump when it's an oldie And if we still ain't sold platinum or gold That'll be the bigges lie you ever told me, hold me...back Black, I snack on the wack and wash it down with a fifth of Yak It's like that and that's the way it is You can ask his to stay out my biz Girl, I'm off the hook, plug me into your adaptor I'm sending wack rhymes to the rafters Turn up your skill factor, you bitin rhymes like a Raptor You thought we was through but this is still the first chapter Before I go, can I get an Ooh Ooh! It's J-Ro, baby, from the Likwit Crew Chorus: repeat 8X Funny style King Tee: Now watch me run amuck And gun em up with the shit Rebel rhymin from Tha Liks Alkaholistics all true with no tricks The infrared pointed at they lips And man they don't speak, they keep the conversation petite They shit is weak, I'm concrete like the beat Bust that ass, super nigga jeep class Me last in the game, no problem Sit and drink a fifth with my nigga James Robinson Check your alcoholic pulse while its throbbing The Likwit Squad, the entourage Get exquisite, get addicted, get Xzibit Fellas wanna test King Tipsy but its risky He probably slap a nigga in his mouth like a bitch. G So kick rocks and step back by the mile Them sober niggaz act funny style Chorus: repeat to fade

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