lunes, 24 de diciembre de 2007

TAKIN OVA

Este temazo lo tengo desde mis comienzos en el rap de verdad y hasta hace poco no sabia ni quienes cantaban: Tommy tee, Shabaam Sahdeeq, Mr. Eon & Joe Sex, del lp New York State Of Rhyme vol.1, en el año 1998, que lo disfruteis...



[Intro: Shabaam Sahdeeq]
Uh.. Uh..
Shabaam Shadeeq
Sinister V-O-I-C-E
Easy Reservoir
Mista Shadeeq
Uh... Tommy Tee
Sinister Voices

[Verse One: Shabaam Sahdeeq]
Moves you cant trace
Terror face-to-face
I lace the bass and drums with nuff taste
When its crunch time, I invite MCs to my lunch time
With a punch line, bake beef like a mongoose
Even if its one line, and do rhyme
I track em all down, waste a few rounds
Clownass niggaz get shot like grave robbahz
Get around like my ballahz
In the coup the [?], no time to chill
Sun too hot to stop
See the world through a blink of an eye, imagine dat
I weight cannabis cats steadly takin' naps
Perhaps, I fuck up ya dome like Pete Snaps
No fake cats I need to procede with mine
So long I step on the stage I spit fire
I'm da natty, definatly living up the party
I shut the fuckahz down if these niggas dont respect me
Make em shake like epelepsy
Cant stress me
Cant test me with that talk ya talk keep it walkin'
I walk mine till the end of time, connecting
Collaborating with my comrades from everywhere
True is how I keep it secret: I never leak it
Hot like bahama beaches, with ya girl eating peaches
Shadeeqy lace the track like lee gee [?]
Hiphop's a fine whole [?] lotta way she freak me

[Chorus: Mr.Eon]
We come elevated
Untranslated
Uncut, MCs get done up when we run up
Run up, my fake poets, throw ya love up
Locally, globally wreckin' totally
We come elevated
Untranslated
Uncut, MCs get done up when we run up
Run up, my fake poets, throw ya love up
Locally globally wreckin' totally

[Verse Two: Reservoir Doggs]
Momma always said there'd be days like diz
I'd be stressed like diz, and fall victim to the streets
At an early age have my peeps call early graves
In the early days like around the late 80s
When chicks around the waist had no tits but had babies
My crew went crazy, drug money made us lazy
I never wanted to work, just sell this rap drug
To fiends everywhere with their headphones plugged
Verbal injectah
Hold the gadget like Inspectah
12 bars or pressure
Ghetto story lecture
Indiano, aka C-malo, a hard act to follow
Nigga chew before ya swollow

[Verse Three: Reservoir Doggs]
Yo yo yo yo,
Get ya best lined up, get ready so we can combat
I stomp that, blow bags and flow tracks
Where the do at, bless a nigga format(?) packs
Like gats by the ass crack when I click niggaz past that
They make lyricis, I blast back with a phat rap
I back trakcs, u relapse, I pack stacks, u eat that
Shit you talkin' new york bronx state of (?)
Double bread niggaz who shine get blind of the realness
Yo feel diz
Got my cake stacked up, and blaze shorty with the sex
Got my games backed up, I bought a half a million worth of ice
Keep it confidential, presidential on a rolex
go tex with the lex as we flex this
General who da federal
Interlectual 40 more with the residue dirty dogs
B-X we bless like the hands of Christ
And roll dice triple 7 for eternal life

[Verse Four: Joe Sexx]
My infra-red sizing you up, you live what nigga what
Promote and curruptness, or necceary ruptness
When I bliss, hiss the fist with [?] clips
[?] up those tips between lips and shit
Now and dat shitez
Force and I dont cries smash da dice
The cubes I hold I wrote, see low?? twice
Shakin' up the standard turnin' scramblahz to cant handle us
I want it all be to be, a bad [?] gambler
Shacked ya girl as angela?? got her on camera-rush
And when my mom sees how I'm mashin' or flashin' it from da door-step
Ya niggaz aint vile, ya gotta disscuss the wild
Fuckin' slim girls the project's gotta pee now
Meanwhile niggaz be fucking my guns keep bustin'
Chicken heads keep fussin'
Ya bitches always want to suck
My .45 is cussing cops is coming but I aint runnin'
Joe Sex lets get added motherfuckahz

[Chorus: Mr.Eon]
We come elevated
Untranslated
Uncut, MCs get done up when we run up
Run up, my fake poets, throw ya love up
Locally, globally wreckin' totally
We come elevated
Untranslated
Uncut, MCs get done up when we run up
Run up, my fake poets, throw ya love up
Locally globally wreckin' totally
[totally fades x3]

DA JOINT

Que no chicos, que no me habia olvidado d"el temazo" de Epmd, el año 1997, el disco Back in business, disfrutarlo......





[Erick Sermon]
I make a million buck
every six months and y'all
hating my game saying my name they call
me the E wrong things
knowing Im fly without wings
while some of y'all have to pull strings.
In this era I maintain the freak upon the beats
master basslines of Raphael Saadiq
Lyrical mastermind a genius so dont snooze
no missions impossible ask Tom Cruise
I keep a joint lit when I have to spit
I rough paragraph, laugh when I'm busting yo' ass, who want it?
Come and see me, like 112
and I'll rock that bell with Fox and L
E-Dub, Mr Excitement, right
The poltergeist of rap so come to the light.
Yes, the recipient of this award goes to Moi,
the best qualified superstar.

Chorus
Erick: My squad stays on point like
Den en den den de den, It's the joint
Parish: Yeah my squad stay on point like,
Erick: Den en den den de den, Its the joint.
Both: New York I'm in your area, (Over here)
DC I'm in your area, (Over here)
New Jerse I'm in your area, (Over here)
EPMD, its a world premier

[Parrish Smith]
Its the joint, stay on point
Plus I'm feelin it
niggas killin shit tryin to duplicat the manuscript
thats impossible, pray like the gospel
over coming set backs, and jumping over obstacles
Like Evil Kenevil, on point like a needle
EPMDs' like the Beatles, back with another sequal
to hip hop, check one two and you don't stop
rap with mainstream R&B and pop
now the worlds shocked
the E-doubles back with Mic-Doc
Like it or not we bout to turn it up another notch
My speeds put it down for my seeds
Raw breeds, acres with the deeds, its the joint.

Chorus: (first part the same)
Both: VA I'm in your area, (Over here)
DA I'm in your area, (Over here)
Chi Town I'm in your area, (Over here)
EPMD, its a world premier

[EPMD]
E: My styles digable, so I'm phat like that
I got a benz too, and its black like that
I got millions of chips, and they stack like that
A five year spread, and now we back like that
How dare they, niggas sittin in they room with Brandy
way pissed off thikin how the can't stand me
He rhyme Shawn for his Penn, talking
not lookin, shoocken, a dead man walking
P: You know me, from rippin shows wit my homie
the one and only, Ginuwine like Pony
You want a ride? Call me up when your lonely
I'm Parish Smith and shit, Greaat like Tony
I'm hittin hittin
E: Where from?
P: From brentwood to San Quentin
I'ma keep rhyming, still representing
E: Fro who?
P: For my niggas up north and in the ?Courts?
and for the emcees taking no shorts, in this blood sport
Chorus: (first part the same)
Both: Detroit I'm in your area, (Over here)
Cali I'm in your area, (Over here)
Philly I'm in your area, (Over here)
EPMD, its a world premier

CLASSIC - BETTER THAN I'VE EVER BEEN

Aunque es un tema moderno, tiene un rollito clasico, que de eso va el tema...Premier, Rakin, Krs one, Nas y Kanye west...si consigo el track en mp3 lo cuelgo xP....

EDITADO: Ya consegui el tema y aqui os lo dejo como prometi



Video:



Letras:
[Rakim:]
Is y’all ready for Twenty-0-7, it’s now another drought
Everyone’s a killer, wow we buggin out
Since 86 showin the crowd what I’m about
And they still want to know when the album comin’ out
Ask the teenagers, O’Gs and Ask the kids
What they definition of Classic is
Timeless, cause age don’t count in the booth
And your flow stays submerged in the fountain of youth
And no doubt the truth I’m off the meters
Everybody co-signing even non-believers
I came in the door, became one of y’alls leaders
In the fresh pair of Air Force One sneakers
Uptown we call ‘em uppies when they on divas
Prolly worn when KRS One teaches
Nas, made you look, before the haters
I bet you Kan had ‘em on when he walked with Jesus
This is classic

Classic, better than I'v ever been
Talent,
If it’s classic it’s gonna last forever than
I’m everywhere you never been and better than I ever been
Classic
Better than I'v ever been

[Kanye West:]
Can’t buy this, superflyness, like a shyness, your highness
It’s performin’, look how long the line is
That’s what happens when you make shit that’s timeless
That’s what happens these rappers is the pioneers
What do it take to be a legend like Nas is?
That’s so novice, I’m so polished, I got a right to be a little bit snobbish
I did a little bit of college, semesters it took 2 like Rob Base
To let me figure out this wasn’t my place, the beat slowed til’ you listened to my pace
[ Classic lyrics found on http://www.completealbumlyrics.com ]
Cuz I be killin’ shit, but that’s evident, and y’all feelin’ it, but I expected it
If it’s classic it’s gonna last forever than I’m everywhere you never been and better than I ever been

Classic, better than I'v ever been
Talent,
If it’s classic it’s gonna last forever than
I’m everywhere you never been and better than I ever been
Classic
Better than I'v ever been

[Nas:]
Perseverance, see the fake hustler rapper to them it hurts to hear this
O you went platinum – yeah that’s nice, now let me see you do the same thing twice
New times, 4 times, then been a couple of more times, please your amateur night is show time
It’s one life to live so live it the best you can, the world could use one less man
Not enough air, not enough car factories to manufacture new vehicles sedans and vans
When they do make the whip you like ya chips ain’t right, by the time you could afford it the car ain’t important
In the streets silent, it’s just I and - cops keep firin’ in my environment
Leavin’ your slum when they drive home far from the hood brothers they eager to jump on
I like to be the wall that they post up on, I like to see them fall, guilty for doing wrong
I’m classic like the Air Ones, the Hustler shoe, that’s what I’m accustomed to

Classic, better than I'v ever been
Talent,
If it’s classic it’s gonna last forever than
I’m everywhere you never been and better than I ever been
Classic
Better than I'v ever been

[KRS One:]
How many y’all got criminal minded you you you y’all don’t be blinded
Me I got no jewels on my neck, why – I don’t need ‘em I got your respect
KRS 1 20 years I rock I do it for JMJ and Scott LaRock – this hip hop
And we’s a nation, don’t you want to hear more KRS on your radio station?
Instead of broadcasting how we smokin’ trees, on the radio we need to hear more local MC’s
Where you at? Come on where you at? This is the difference between MC’ing and rap
Rappers spit rhymes that are mostly illegal, MC’s spit rhymes to uplift they people
Peace, love, unity, and Havin’ fun, these are the lyrics of KRS One

MC'S ACT LIKE THEY DON'T KNOW

Aqui os subo este temazo que quien no lo tenga aun, necesita una clase de hip hop basico....








Clap your hands everybody, if you got what it takes
Cos I'm KRS and I'm on the mic, and Premier's on The Breaks


If you don't know me by now I doubt you'll ever know me
I never won a Grammy, I won't win a Tony
But I'm not the only MC keepin' it real
When I grab the mic to smash a rapper, girls go "Illlll!"
Check the time as I rhyme, it's 1995
Whenever I arrive the party gets liver
Flow with the master rhymer, that's to leave behind
The video rapper, you know, the chart climber
Clapper, down goes another rapper
Onto another matter, punch up the data, Blastmaster
Knowledge Reigns Supreme Over Nearly Everybody
Call up KRS, I'm guaranteed to rip a party
Flat top, braids, bald heads or natty dread
There once was a story about a man named Jed
But now Jed is dead, all his kids instead
Want to kick rhymes off the top of they head
Word, what go around come around I figure
Now we got white kids callin' themselves niggas
The tables turned as the crosses burned
Remember You Must Learn
About the styles I flip and how wild I get
I go on like a space age rocket ship
You could be a mack, a pimp, hustler or player
But make sure live you is a dope rhyme sayer


This is what you waited all year for
The hardcore, that's what KRS is here for
Big up Grand Wizard Theodore, gettin' ill
If you see then ya saw I'm in your grill with mad skill
MC's can only battle with rhymes that got punchlines
Let's battle to see who headlines
Instead of flow for flow let's go show for show
Toe for toe, yo, you better act like you know
Too many MC's take that word 'emcee' lightly
They can't Move a Crowd, not even slightly
It might be the fact that they express wackness
Let me show ya whose ass is the blackest
I flip a script a little bit, you ride the tip and shit
Too sick to get with it, admit you bit, your style is counterfeit
Now tone it down a bit
My title you will never get, I'm too intelligent
I'll send your family my sentiments, my style is toxic
When I rock and shock and hip hop it unlock your head, I knock it
It split quick from the lyric
Direct hit, perfect fit, you can't get with it


Some MC's don't like the KRS but they must respect him
Cos they know this kid gets all up in they rectum
Slappin' and selectin' em, checkin' em, disrespectin' em
Just deckin' em, deckin' em, deck-in' em
Who in their right mind can mimic a style like mine?
I design rhyme and get mine all the time
MC's standin' on the sidelines, always dissin'
When I roll up and rush their crew they start bitchin'
I don't burn, I don't freeze, yet some MC's
Believe they could tangle with the likes of these
Cross your t's and dot your i's whenever I arrive
Wide, magnified, live like the ocean tide
You dope, you lied, I reside like artefacts
On the wrong side of the tracks, electrified
Comin' around the mountain, you run and hide
Hopin' your defence mechanism can divert my heat-seeking lyricism
As I spark mad iszm
The 1996 lyrical style's what I give 'em

domingo, 23 de diciembre de 2007

2 TURNTABLES AND A MIC

Imprescindible tener este temazo, los inimitables Black Moon nos dejaron este track en su Lp War Zone, no os lo perdais...




aqui el video:



letras:

"Alright party people, it's about that time
We want everybody everybody off the stage
Who ain't supposed to be on the stage
And you trip over the wire, we gon'
get Smitty to beat you up"

[ Buckshot ]
Just clap your hands to the beat
"Just clap your hands to the beat" (6x) "you don't stop"

If you look at reality, I bet you
can't see what I can see
What could you see Buck, another duck
Gettin paid off the bullshit, what the fuck
Now, you can keep the ball if you want
But I'm gonna fight for the right
in the name of the blunt
Hip-hop rules, can't nobody touch the flavor
Brotha, word to motha, tell your neighbor (WHAT!!)
That we do whatever we gotta do
God bless the budda cess and my whole crew
One thing I hate see fuck a hand
You and your crew bite my style and
you play Teddy Rucker man
Timberland on the upper hand
See the future plan is to be the man on the mic, huh
I see for now I got to demonstrate
Hey, hold your head back and feel
the weight, remember this?

Chorus (4x)
Two turntables and a mic (MIC!!)
One phat emcee on the set (SET!!)

[ Buckshot ]
Watch me blow your back out wit the verb
Herb, come test Buck you get served
Look, up in the air, it's a bird
No, it's Super Nigga and look he's puffin the herb
Sayin "chocolate do a nigga justice"
Bust this, spark another session I'm lovin the mist
Contact in my nostril
Is a collosal emcee to recollect on set
The point is, you get biz on the mic
Like back in the days, niggas we got more like
Shit, today it take niggas too long to recognize
Just because I'm not commercialized
Or when I'm in your town I rock the underground
But you don't know me
Cuz I don't got no bitches wit me that's ready to blow me
Half bud-ass yellin "have a good time"
Nowadays I'd rather have a good rhyme

Chorus (4x)

[ Buckshot ]
Commercial rap get the gun clap
Buckshot, original mack I'm takin it back
Back, back to when the wack used to play loafer
Carryin equiptment, nowadays they gettin over
Sayin it's another form of hip-hop
But get dropped wit the ball, back and talk when you walk
At night, whenever I stomp I can feel the hawk
Inside of my chest, from the bless
What I manifest is what I bring forth
Hold up people, I'm gettin you lost, wait a minute
Remember this? remenisce?
Way back in the days when the
battle meant whoever got dis
Now what they do is this, to ruin this
They put a commercial emcee in the business
To make a brother like me play the dugout
That's that shit, no doubt

Chorus (4x)

Yeah yeah yeah yeah, that's what you been missin
Two turntables and a mic
And one phat emcee on the set, blowin up the spot
MC, DJ, this is how we do today
Niggas can't believe how we do that
Buckshot, BCC, representin who I be, FAP listen
Check it out
Buckshot, Beatminerz in the front in the back

WHUTCHA WANT

temazo donde los halla, Nine nos deja este regalito, lo podeis encontrar en el Nine Livez de 1995, que lo disfruteis....




aqui el video:



aqui la letra:

Verse One:
I gets banned if I do gets banned if I don't
So sometimes I will and sometimes I won't
Puff mad stick crack a forty down the back
Sit fat and relax and plan my attack
Not the one to test I posess mad finesse
My buddha was blessed one bird in the nest
Chills with my peeps steady bouncing in jeeps
on the New York streets hittin urban concrete
I'm the man untestable, with the extraterrestrial flow
Fo'-fifty-fix celo, pop the top off the forty ounce bottle
I'm not the one to follow, I'm not the role model
Hollow tips in my clips money grip and my Glock
only spits when I react to the bullshit
So give me room to breathe and get up off DEEZ
And save the confessions for JEESuz
Plus I don't need to hear no sorrow
Eff it, the sun will still come out tomorrow
Long as I'm breathing, needing, even like Steven
Achieving, gettin some cheese and
representin lovely, Boogie Down Bronx major
with the project flavor, I made ya, daze ya
My behavior is mad ill if you front
You know what I want!
Chorus:
(Whutcha want Nine?) Fat beats for my rides
(So whutcha want Nine?) Mad clips for my nines
(So whutcha want Nine?) A ill posse
and my name up in lights, N-I-N-E
Verse Two:
I'ma let you know how I feel on the real
I pack steel it's like a jungle makes me wonder where my eel is
Hits the bricks skips the dog shit complete in my cipher
Temper like Rowdy Rowdy Piper, hyper like a viper
I'ma strike if I got it goin for the jugular
Stretch you like a copper
Stoppah, stoppah, but you can't stop me
Just clock me, just watch me blow up the spot G
Came a long way from, back in the day
we did it for no pay, just rhymin hit the hay and
sleep, wake up, write another rhyme
Hit the park after dark drop the beat one time
That's when shit was real, no phonies no baloney
Just the homemade mics and wheels of steel
Backup from the roof, amp plugged in the street light
Everything right, jam over a street fight
Back to the lab I grab my pen and pad
Raw lyrics make a fleuredoscad
Had no dinero, enough get fo' chicken wings and rice
A forty ounce a nickel bag to get nice
And now I might make a million, and still son
it makes the heart pump, you know what I want
Chorus
Verse Three:
Be like Elmer J. Fudd with the mansion and the yacht
Brand new Glock non-stop hip-hop
Remote control boombox lampin on my dresser
The God ain't no lesser as the pressure comes to test ya
Hundred pound weight around the neck, daily
nuff treasons nuff reasons like Philip Bailey
Can't get enough of that funky stuff
Rhymin astronomical, original, shit is phenomenal
Heat up the ghetto put the pedal to the metal
Speed like Racer treat you like a wack rhyme and erase ya
Right off the pape I roll a big fat spliff
Four-fifth on the hip, Heineken in the grip shit I'm ready
Get the keys for the jeep, let's bounce
Cruise avenues, get some brews and sing the blues with the
Funkmaster Flex cassette in the deck
I'm in effect I move my neck while Son gets wreck
Oh what a feeling, I'm on the wheels of steel and
I snatch up some skins for some sexual healing
Erything's kosher copasctetic, groovy hip-hop moves me
soothes me, I'm letting off like an uzi
But first steps a doozy and bruise me
Now I'm choosy before I start to freak it like a floozy
I wanna get big get paid true stunt
You know what I want!
Chorus

WRECKOGNIZE (REMIX)

Por que ellos saben como hacer las cosas bien, aqui os dejo este temazo de los artistas antes conocidos como Smif N Wessun, ahora conocidos como Cocoa Brovaz, disfrutarlo....





...y aqui la lyric, porque se que es dificil de conseguir, yo tarde lo mio:

Early to rise so wake wake before day break
Meditating on the steps I take
I realize there's a lot at stake
So why enterprise while trying to stack papes
But I wrekonize that it aint' easy
So I organize with my P.N.C.
From day break to dusk dawn
I stand strong on my own too
Give praises to jive before manuvering thru
My steps towards improvements
Meet up with my esset, put him on the movements
I maintains like green bag and such
We're gonna make it happpen, just the two of us

Refrain: 4X
All heads realize, wrekonize
Real heads on the rise, wrekonize
Better wrekonize

I live the life of an entertainer
Stress bringer, grams of get right high pounds of anger
And worries of success down the line
Living life to the fullest in that space and time
I'm coping wit me and my habits
Coping that coke over and and the cabbage
Tensed all seasons for ass kicing reasons
Never know where you catch a spot commiting treason
I know what you mean son
I've seen some blind, some deaf, some dumb
Whichever one choose to follow the other one
Looses to the mass confusion caused by fast illusion
Showin 'n provin, it's not just a phrase that we usin'
It's the way of life when you keep it moving
Soon and, you get new then
You be tuned in to get ready to move in position

Refrain

I shine, you shine, in this day and time
We maintain the same frame of mind
The elevation, spark it up son
Yo, start the circulation
360 degrees in rotation
Simulatin, as a herb as my physical creation
Slipping to a hallucination
Situations
Got me thinking about my life seriously
Keep it real continously
Before I slip into blackness I prepare for combat
Protect my dome cause that's where my home's at
Crack my windows and hail is the misflow
Build up my mental, construct on my physical
Spreading love to my P.N.C. state to state
And head on lock holding it down behind the gate
What's subscribe in the mail son
Or hit me on the horn
Smif N' Wessun hold it on
We see you when you reach home

CROWD PLEASA

Pues si amigos, seguimos con este temazo de el da sensei, del lp The unusual (2006) , hecho con la banda sonora de la pelicula The exodus, nos os lo perdais...



Empecemos - ON THE BONE AGAIN

Para comenzar, un temazo que no puedo quitarme de la cabeza (como muchos mas), y que transmite un rollo especial.

Los responsables son FLAVOR UNIT, del Lp ROLL WIT THE FLAVA, el año 1993....



....Disrutarlo!