CHECK THE RHIME

A Tribe called Quest nos dejaron este temazo en su lp The Low End Theory de 1991, un discazo de la historia del hip hop que ya deberias haber escuchado, disfrutadlo!

DESCARGAR

El video:



Las lyrics:

Q: Back in the days on the boulevard of Linden,
we used to kick routines and presence was fittin'.
It was I the abstract
P: And me the five footer.
I kicks the mad style so step off the frankfurter.
Q: Yo, Phife, you remember that routine
that we used to make spiffy like mister clean?
P: Um um, a tidbit, um, a smidgen.
I don~t get the message so you gots to run the pigeon.
Q: You on point Phife?
P: All the time, tip.
Q: You on point Phife?
P: All the time, tip.
Q: You on point Phife?
P: All the time, tip.
Q: Well, then grab the microphone and let your words rip.
P: Now here's a funky introduction of how nice I am.
Tell your mother, tell your father, send a telegram.
I'm like an energizer 'cause, you see, I last long.
My crew is never ever wack because we stand strong.
Now if you say my style is wack that's where you're dead wrong.
I slayed that body in El Segundo then push it along.
You'd be a fool to reply that Phife is not the man
'cause you know and I know that you know who I am.
A special shot of peace goes out to all my pals, you see.
And a middle finger goes for all you punk MC's.
'Cause I love it when you wack MC's despise me.
They get vexed, I roll next, can~t none contest me.
I'm just a fly MC who's five foot three and very brave.
On job remaining, no I'm chaining cause I misbehave.
I come correct in full effect have all my hoes in check.
And before I get the butt the jim must be erect.
You see, my aura~s positive I don't promote no junk.
See, I'm far from a bully and I ain't a punk.
Extremity in rhythm, yeah that's what you heard.
So just clean out your ears and just check the word.

Q: Check the rhyme y'all.
Check the rhyme y'all.
Check the rhyme y'all.
Check the rhyme y'all.
Check the rhyme y'all.
Check the rhyme y'all.
Check it out.
Check it out.
Check the rhyme y'all.
Check the rhyme y'all.
Check the rhyme y'all.
Play tapes y'all.
Check the rhyme y'all.
Check the rhyme y'all.
Check it out.
Check it out.

P: Back in days on the boulevard of Linden,
we used to kick routines and the presence was fittin'
It was I the Phifer,
Q: And me, the abstract.
The rhymes were so rumpin' that the brothers rode the 'zack.
P: Yo, tip you recall when we used to rock
Those fly routines on your cousin~s block.
Q: Um, let me see, damn I can't remember.
I receive the message and you will play the sender.
P: You on point Tip?
Q: All the time Phife.
P: You on point Tip?
Q: Yeah, all the time Phife.
P: You on point Tip?
Q: Yo, all the time Phife.
P: So play the resurrector and give the dead some life.
Q: Okay, if knowledge is the key then just show me the lock.
Got the scrawny legs but I move just like Luke Brock,
With speed. I'm agile plus I'm worth your while.
One hundred percent intelligent black child.
My optic presentation sizzles the retina.
How far must I go to gain respect? Um.
Well, it's kind of simple, just remain your own
Or you'll be crazy sad and alone.
Industry rule number four thousand and eighty,
record company people are shady.
So kids watch your back 'cause I think they smoke crack,
I don't doubt it. Look at how they act.
Off to better things like a hip-hop forum.
Pass me the rock and I'll storm with the crew and ...
Proper. What you say Hammer? Proper.
Rap is not pop, if you call it that then stop.

NC, y'all check the rhyme y'all.
SC, y'all check it out y'all.
Virginia, check the rhyme y'all.
Check it out. Out.
In London, check the rhyme, y'all.

SOUND OF DA POLICE

Krs one nos dejo este tema en su Return of the Boom Bap (1993) y deja clara su postura para con los agentes de la ley y el orden, paz!

DERCARGAR

El video:



Las lyrics:

Woop-woop!
That's the sound of da police!
Woop-woop!
That's the sound of the beast!

Verse One:

Stand clear! Don man a-talk
You can't stand where I stand, you can't walk where I walk
Watch out! We run New York
Police man come, we bust him out the park
I know this for a fact, you don't like how I act
You claim I'm sellin' crack
But you be doin' that
I'd rather say "see ya"
Cause I would never be ya
Be a officer? You WICKED overseer!
Ya hotshot, wanna get props and be a saviour
First show a little respect, change your behavior
Change your attitude, change your plan
There could never really be justice on stolen land
Are you really for peace and equality?
Or when my car is hooked up, you know you wanna follow me
Your laws are minimal
Cause you won't even think about lookin' at the real criminal
This has got to cease
Cause we be getting HYPED to the sound of da police!

Chorus

Verse Two:

Now here's a likkle truth
Open up your eye
While you're checking out the boom-bap, check the exercise
Take the word "overseer," like a sample
Repeat it very quickly in a crew for example
Overseer
Overseer
Overseer
Overseer
Officer, Officer, Officer, Officer!
Yeah, officer from overseer
You need a little clarity?
Check the similarity!
The overseer rode around the plantation
The officer is off patroling all the nation
The overseer could stop you what you're doing
The officer will pull you over just when he's pursuing
The overseer had the right to get ill
And if you fought back, the overseer had the right to kill
The officer has the right to arrest
And if you fight back they put a hole in your chest!
(Woop!) They both ride horses
After 400 years, I've _got_ no choices!
The police them have a little gun
So when I'm on the streets, I walk around with a bigger one
(Woop-woop!) I hear it all day
Just so they can run the light and be upon their way

Chorus

Verse Three:

Check out the message in a rough stylee
The real criminals are the C-O-P
You check for undercover and the one PD
But just a mere Black man, them want check me
Them check out me car for it shine like the sun
But them jealous or them vexed cause them can't afford one
Black people still slaves up til today
But the Black police officer nah see it that way
Him want a salary
Him want it
So he put on a badge and kill people for it
My grandfather had to deal with the cops
My great-grandfather dealt with the cops
My GREAT grandfather had to deal with the cops
And then my great, great, great, great... when it's gonna stop?!

ICE CREAM

Os dejo este tema que cualquier raper seguro que conoce, o por lo menos el grupo, la Wu-tang, que nos dejaron este pepino en el disco Disciples of the 36 Chambers, del año 2004, disfrutarlo

DESCARGAR

El video:



Las lyrics:

Chorus:

Watch these rap niggaz get all up in your guts
French-vanilla, butter-pecan, chocolate-deluxe
Even caramel sundaes is gettin touched
And scooped in my ice cream truck, Wu tears it up
(The ice cream man is coming!)

Verse One: Ghostface Killer (Tony Starks)

Yo honey-dips, summertime, fine Jheri drippin
See you on Pickens with a bunch of chickens how you're clickin
I catch shootin strong notes as we got close
She rocked rope, honey throat smellin like Impulse
Your whole shell baby's wicked like Nimrod
Caught me like a fresh-water scrod, or may I not be God
Attitude is very rude Boo, crabby like seafood
It turns me on like Vassey and Lahrule
They call me Starky Love-hun, check the strategy
By any means, Shirley Temple cross was done by Billie Jean's
Black Misses America, your name is Erica, right true
Lazy eyeball, small piece, six shoe
Caramel complexion, breath smellin like cinnamon
Excuse me hon, the Don mean no harm, turn around again
God damn, backyard's bangin like a Benz-y
If I was jiggy, you'd be spotted like Spudz McKenzie
I'm high powered put Adina Howard to sleep
Yo pardon, that bitch been on my mind all week, but uhh
Back to you Maybelline Queen let's make a team
You can have anything in this world except CREAM
So whatchu wanna do? Whatchu wanna do?
Let's go ahead and walk these dogs and represent Wu

Chorus

Verse Two: Raekwon the Chef (Lou Diamonds)

Shaolin's finest, whattup Boo, peace your highness
Yo I'm loungin, big dick style, y'all niggaz is the flyest
Moves you're making too fly jewels are shaking
not a rape patient, you're looking good fly colored Asian
Ghettoes, them is your hometown, we can go the whole round
After that, I'm shootin downtown
I'm rockin hats and you wig is all intact
Who's that queen bee chick, eyes curly black
Freaks be movin in fly sneaks
Two finger rings and gold teeth, and ain't afraid to hold heat
So when I step in the square dear
You better have CREAM to share, Ricans, ven aqui yeah

Chorus

Verse Three: Cappachino

Black chocolate girl wonder, shade brown like Thunder
Politic til your deficit step, gimme your number
Your sexy persuasive ta-ta's and thighs
Catch my eyes like highs I want your bodily surprise
Double dime some time, Ice Cream you got me fallin out
like a cripple, I love you like I love my dick size
ooh baby I miss you, your sweet tender touches
take pulls off the dutches, orgasm in my mindstate
masterbate in your clutches, I want you for self
like wealth, so play me closely
Bitches paranoia for the sting, who want the most of me
Only a hard dozen want to be callin me cousin
Thirsty for my catalog, baby shoppin spree you're lovin
Call me if you want to get dug like the pockets
I jizm like a giant break brooms out of their sockets

Outro: Method Man

Wu-Tang in the cut, for real niggaz what?
It's the after party and bitches want to fuck

Chorus:

Ice cold bitches melt down when my clutch
and what they titties sucked, ice cream

Yeah, your guts

Chorus: 3/4ths

Ice cold bitches melt down when in the clutch
They want they titties sucked, ice cream

One love to my chocolate deluxes, keep your nails done and your wigs tight, word up
One love to my butter-pecan Ricans for calling me papi That's for real
One love to caramel sundaes, with the cherries on top Yeah
And big up to my french vanillas
Parlez vous, francais, mi amor, merci, oui oui, bon bons
and all that good stuff
That good stuff

JUMP AROUND

Hoy recupero tiempo y subo otro tema, y nos lo traen los chicos de House of Pain en su lp Fine Malt Lyrics (1992), enjoy!

El video:


Las lyrics:

Pack it up, pack it in
Let me begin
I came to win
Battle me that's a sin
I won't tear the sack up
Punk you'd better back up
Try and play the role and the whole crew will act up
Get up, stand up, come on!
Come on, throw your hands up
If you've got the feeling jump across the ceiling
Muggs is a funk fest, someone's talking junk
Yo, I'll bust em in the eye
And then I'll take the punks home
Feel it, funk it
Amps it are junking
And I got more rhymes than there's cops that are dunking
Donuts shop
Sure 'nuff I got props from the kids on the Hill
Plus my mom and my pops

[Chorus]
I came to get down [2x]
So get out your seats and jump around
Jump around [3x]
Jump up Jump up and get down.
Jump [18x]


I'll serve your ass like John MacEnroe
If your steps up, I'm smacking the ho
Word to your moms I came to drop bombs
I got more rhymes than the bible's got psalms
And just like the Prodigal Son I've returned
Anyone stepping to me you'll get burned
Cause I got lyrics and you ain't got none
So if you come to battle bring a shotgun
But if you do you're a fool, cause I duel to the death
Try and step to me you'll take your last breath
I gots the skill, come get your fill
Cause when I shoot ta give, I shoot to kill

[Chorus]

I'm the cream of the crop, I rise to the top
I never eat a pig cause a pig is a cop
Or better yet a terminator
Like Arnold Schwarzenegger
Try'n to play me out like as if my name was Sega
But I ain't going out like no punk bitch
Get used to one style and you know I might switch
It up up and around, then buck buck you down
Put out your head then you wake up in the Dawn of the Dead
I'm coming to get ya, coming to get ya
Spitting out lyrics homie I'll wet ya

[Chorus]
Jump [32x]

Yo, this is dedicated
To Joe, da flava, Dakota
Grag yo bozac, punk

BAKNAFFEK

Otro pepino mas en la lista, ellos son Das Efx, el disco Straight Up Sewaside, el año 1993 y el productor Pmd, peace!

El video:


Las lyrics:

(People people people people
people people people people)

Verse 1: Dray, Skoob

Shippity bop, well hot diggity, where`s the iggity? The bum siggity
Niggas wanna know but check the flow my little trickity
I`m comin with the Books so kid, it looks like it`s a winner
Ya better get`cha plate because I`m servin raps for dinner
See I freak it from the sewer plus I`m quick to do ya posse
I`m swoopin on the note just like I was a kamikaze
See they thought I lost my spot so they went and got real comfy
So now I gotta hit me hard and bogart like Humphrey
Ya hypocrite, I`m rippin it because I`m flyer
Ya phony, full of bologne like Oscar Meyer
See I attack a pack of rappers just for practice
I bust my tactics, I`m sharper than a fuckin axe-iss

(Set it off!) One two (Set it off!)
Yeah it`s the Books in reverse, the next cap sendin a big-up to my borough
I`m thorough, wetter than a ghetto from Medini-Bop
Takin lessons, swayin niggas on graffitti
Rockin other slang ranger, bring a banger ???? occasion
My nerves is achin, see I`m sick of niggas perpetratin
But can`t see this, I`m screamin on they records like Beavis
or Butthead, I bust heads like Amy
Fisher isser, blisser, hit you like an accident
and if I`m in your town you might meet me at the Radisson
or splatterin, batterin crews for lip chatterin
It ain`t nuttin new, that`s how we do, my crew is back again

Chorus:

Bak `n` affek, how`s that?
(People people people people)
*repeat x3*

Verse 2: Dray, Skoob

Well here I go again, so dig the flow again, try not to bite
a bigger nigga with my left and then I flick em with my right
I`m outta sight, look how I do it, ya blew it if you missed a
nigga on the microphone cos I can roll a sister
Word is bond, I`m on some nuke ----, new ---- like this
Grab a piece of steel and shoot the giff like Chris
Cringle, lost my jingle, don`t it make ya shiver
Give a nigga what he needs so he can bleed when I deliver
Aah microphone check, what the heck?
I do that then because I used to catch a wreck
wit it, that`s the time I hot talk, spit it
For Christ`s sake I`m in to hit the brakes and you`re skiddin
You ---- in, messiah did it, but y`all can keep that
Cos now I`m on some other type of flow and best believe that

And all that, small cat, my format - deranged
Honey I`m back to run things cos some things is never changed, punk!
So if you`re drunk, I freak the funk until you`re sober
but still be gettin chills when niggas know that winter`s over
Kickin the flam yo it`s the man, tick tock, I jam like gridlock
My style is fender bendin sendin rappers to the pitstop
Good lord o` mercy, hit reversy if you missed it
and busboy give the speech cos like a preacher, baby I`m twisted
Kid I swing a dome-buster light, bone crush a *?smith?*
Bust up your lips then puff up a spliff
So yo, who be dat? Dat wanna do me like this to get
booby trapped jack, cos my crew be strapped fat like dat

Chorus

Bust a flavor
Word up uh, yeah, uh, yeah

Check it out

Nuevo autor

Bueno peña, aqui mi colega Sore se une en esta cruzada de publicar todos los temazos posibles y comienza con un buen pepino, y ya sabeis, sed buenos!!paz

'93 TIL INFINITY

Pepino de Souls Of Mischief, lanzado en su álbum debut, de 1993, y llamado con el mismo nombre. Demostración de realismo noventero de la West Coast.

El video:



Las lyrics:

Yo whassup, this is Tajai of the mighty Souls of Mischief crew
I'm chillin with my man Phesto, my man A-Plus
and my man Op', you know he's dope (yo)
But right now y'know we just maxin in the studio
We hailin from East Oakland, California and, um
sometimes it gets a little hectic out there
But right now, yo, we gonna up you on how we just chill

[1] - Opio
Dial the seven digits, call up Bridgette
Her man's a midget; plus she got friends, yo, I can dig it
Here's a forty, swig it, y'know it's frigid
I got 'em chillin in the cooler, break out the ruler
Damn! That's the fattest stog' I ever seen
The weather's heat in Cali; gettin weeded makes it feel like Maui
Now we feel the good vibrations
So many females, so much inspiration

[2] - A-plus
I get inspired by the blunts too (too)
I'll front you (you) if you hang with a bunk crew (chump)
I roam the strip for bones to pick
When I find one, I'm done; take her home and quickly do this
I need not explain this (nahh)
A-Plus is famous - so get the anus

[3] - Tajai
Hey miss! Who's there? I'm through there
No time to do hair; the flick's at eight, so get straight
You look great - let's grub now
A rub down sounds flavor; later there's the theatre
We in the gut, the cinema, was mediocre
Take her to the crib so I can stroke her

[4] - Phesto
Kids get broke for their skins when I'm in
close range, I throws game at your dip like handball
cause the man's all that
All fat - I be the chill from 93 'til

[Chorus: S.O.M.]
Yeah, this is how we chill from 93 'til
This is how we chill from 93 'til
This is how we chill from 93 'til
This is how we chill from 93 'til
Uh-huh, this is how we chill from 93 'til
This is how we chill, from 93 'til
This is how we chill from 93 'til
This is how we chill.. from 93 'til

[5]
Huh, my black Timbs do me well (yeah)
When I see a fool and he says he heard me tell (what?)
another person's business, I cause dizzyness
Until you - stop acting like a silly bitch

[6]
Yo, crews are jealous cause we get props
The cops, wanna stop - our fun, but the top
is where we're dwellin, swell and fat, no sleep
I work fit and jerks get their hoes sweeped
under their noses, this bro's quick
yo hit blunts and flip once I'm chillin cause my crew's close, kid

[7]
I'm posted, most kids accept this as cool
I exit, cause I'm an exception to the rule
I'm steppin - to the cool spots where crews flock to snare a dip
or see where the shit that's flam B
Blam leakin out his pocket
So I got tons of indo and go to the hoe in's
basement, my ace spent
Fattenin up tracks, Time to get prolific with the whiz kid

[8]
Greenbacks in stacks, don't even ask
who got the fat sacks we can max pumpin fat tracks
Exchangin facts about impacts, cause in facts
My freestyle talent overpowers brothers can't hack.. it
They lack wit; we got the mack shit
93 'Til Infinity - kill all that wack shit

[Chorus]
Hah, this is how we chill from 93 'til
This is how we chill from 93 'til
This is how we chill from 93 'til
This is how we chill.. from 93 'til
Yeahhh this is how we chill from 93 'til
This is how we chill, from 93 'til
This is how we chill from 93 until
This is how we chill from 93 'til

[9]
I be coolin; school's in session but I'm fresh in
rappin so I take time off to never rhyme soft
I'm off on my own shit with my own click
Roll many back roads with a fat stog' and blunt, folding runts
Holding stunts captive with my persona
Plus a bomber, zestin
Niggaz is testin my patience; but I stay fresh and

[10]
Restin at the mall, attendance on 'noid
But I am shoppin for my wish to exploit
some cute fits, some new kicks
I often do this cause it's the pits not bein dipped

[11]
Flip - the flyer attire females desire
Baby you can step to this if you admire
The ex..traordinary dapper rapper
Keep tabs on your main squeeze before I tap her

[12]
I'll mack her; attack her with the smoothness
I do this, peepin what my crew gets (huh)
loot, props, respect and blunts to pass
Crews talk shit, but in my face they kiss my ass (smak!)
They bite flows but we make up new ones
If you're really dope, why ain't ya signed yet?
But I get - my loot from Jive/Zomba, I'ma bomb ya
You will see - from now 'til infinity

[Chorus]
Ah, this is how we chill from 93 'til
This is how we chill, from 93 'til
Huh, this is how we chill from 93 'til
Yo, this is how we chill, from 93 'til
Aww yeah this is how we chill from 93 'til
This is how we chill from 93 'til
Yeah this is how we chill from 93 'til
This is how.. we chill, from 93 'til

[Outro]
Hah-hah, just coolin out, y'know what I'm sayin
But, but who's chillin around the land y'know?
Yo, who's chillin? I think I know who's chillin
Yeah tell me who's chillin then then Plus

Casual - you know he's chillin
Yo, Pep Love - he gotta be chillin
Jay Biz - ya know he's chillin
Aiyyo man, my my man Snupe is chillin man
Yo Mike G - you know he's here chillin
Heh, my man Mike P - ya know he gotta chill
Del the Funky Homosapien is Chillin
Aiy ay my man Domino - yo he's chillin
Yeah.. it's like that, yeah...

Actualizacion

Solo decir que he conseguido el tema de classic (Better than i've ever been) y ya esta actualizado y listo para descargar

Saludos

STREETS OF NEW YORK

Bueno, volvemos a 1990 y de la garganta de Kool G Rap y de las manos de Dj Polo os dejo este temazo que abre el lp Wanted Dead or Alive, peace

El video:


Las lyrics:

In the streets of new york
Dope fiends are leaning for morphine
The tv screen followed the homicide scenes
You live here, you’re taking a chance
So look and I take one glance, there’s a man inside an ambulance
Crowds are getting louder, I wonder how the
People want to go fight for the white powder
People hanging in spots
They waited until the blocks got hot
And got raided by the cops
I’ll explain the man sleeping in the rain
His whole life remains inside a bottle of night train
Another man got his clothes in a sack
Cause he spent every dime of his rent playing blackjack
And there’s the poor little sister
She has a little baby daughter
Named sonya and sonya has pneumonia
So why’s her mother in a club unzipped though?
Yo that’s her job, sonya’s mommy is a bar stripper
Drug dealers drive around looking hard
Knowing they’re sending their brothers and sisters to the graveyard
Every day is a main event, some old lady limps
The pushers and pimps eat shrimps
It gets tiring, the sight of a gun firing
They must desire for the sound of a siren
A bag lady dies in an alleyway
She’s seen the last of her days inside the subways
More and more down the slope, the kid couldn’t cope
So he stole somebody’s dope and a gold rope
Now my son’s on the run, he’s a wanted one
Had fun then was done by a shotgun
Upstairs I cover my ears and tears
The man downstairs must have drank too many beers
Cause every day of his life he beats his wife
Till one night she decides to pull a butcher knife
Blind man plays the sax
A tune called “the arms on my moms show railroad tracks? many lives are cut short
That’s when you’re living
In the streets of new york



Baby needs new shoes
But his papa uses all the money for booze
A young girl is undressed in the back seat of a caddy
Calling some man daddy
Three men slain inside an apartment
All you could see was the sparks when it darkened
Daylight broke, cops roll on the scene
The drug war, daily routine
Gambling spots, just a poor man’s jackpot
You winning a lot, you get shot
The drug dealing fanatics
But you don’t want no static
Cause they got crack addicts with automatics
Shoot-outs for a desire for territory
A kid got caught in the crossfire
A tired mother can’t take no more
She grab the bottle full of sleeping pills and took about 24
Human beings are laying on the pavement
Cause they’re a part of a mental enslavement
The cop snipers, little babies in dirty diapers
This type of life is making you hyper
People scouting a torched-out building
And got killed when the cold air filled in
Is hell really suggested?
No more persons arrested, a child molested
A little kid says, yo
I got a color tv, cd player and car stereo
And all I want is a castle
I also got a .38, don’t give me no hassle
One kid heads straight for the top
And gets stopped and popped by a crooked cop
Look behind you when you walk
That’s how it is in the streets of new york

Sistema de encuestas

Hola,

A partir de hoy pondre una encuesta cada mes referente a los temazos del mes anterior, y vosotros votareis por vuestro preferido... asi, de cada mes, saldra un temazo ganador y al final del año habra otra encuesta por el mejor tema puesto ese año, nose si os va a gustar la idea, pero probar es gratis, asi k adelante!!!

Saludos

MY CREW CAN'T GO FOR THAT

Aqui os dejo este temazo de Trigger Tha Gambler colaborando con Smooth Da Hustler y D.V. Alias Khrist, del lp Life is a 50/50 (1996) y de la banda sonora de El profesor chiflado.

VIDEO:


LETRA:

Intro/Chorus: D.V. Alias Khrist

My crew can't go for that, no-o ah ha, no can do
Now my crew can't go for that
can't go for that, can't go for that
No can do!

Verse 1: D.V., Trigger Tha Gambler

Do you wanna take a ride thru the hood?
The roughest clique, serious, up to no good
Can't go for no progress, it leads to stress
Mess when we step you'll get'cha neck snapped when I'm thru
The axe on the necks, left for trach
We heard your footsteps in the city where the sun don't shine
Reign affliction last forever when it's the race upon the 9
Ruckus, so plan your mind and organise

I sit back in my bed watch Bill and Ted
Make sure my days is Excellent before my eyes get red
The professor teachin rappers without the lecture
My texture move forty yards like rave tracks without the measure (measure)
My crew come better, better come with crews that's beef setters
Settin beef I'm known for bein that rhyme deader you can't defeat (uhh)
Somethin that was made to never die
I'm here for a reason dats why GOD trusty, nah!

Chorus x2

Verse 2: Smoothe Da Hustler, D.V.

If nobody told you I'ma show you
checkmate your king, overthrow you
You crown me King like checkers
Jump and blow you way out, stay out
My knight's out to put ya day out
I'm losin it, confusin it
Next level mentality to add on, take away reality, I'm usin it
But most don't agree with these tactics
They find MC's in the middle of four wars on their knees
Cos I freak it backwards, backward's how I freak it, peep it
My sanity helps me live it and speak it frequent
Slowly I can capture criminal raptures
The master blowin MC's with minimal batches of rappers

What be the malfunction? Function
cause the funk, we are the jump just like the junction
Clique policies
don't y'all place lace, get broken when it step up to these
Ya best to take heed

Chorus x2

Verse 3: Trigger, D.V., Smoothe

With all love, due to the fact I jump funk on tracks
Get down for stacks, my crew can't go for that
And to be exact my gamblin staff stay with a Mac
The clip-on wack 'head for attack, can't find no map

The remedy be in me, I see
Jump funkin, funkin we jump in ??? tha South instantly
Drive-by, the hitman for hire
Settin wack crews on fire
Bow down to your lyrical musical sire
D-aah-V extraordanaire
Kick snares in your end til your jams be def cool, who's left?
Cardiac arrest my chest like DT's or raps, man

Now bring it all to a close, close it off
Put that raw style and the game, froze it off
so it all a boil down to this
Basically facin me you're mistakingly ludicrous
I ain't new to this!

Chorus x3

SPANISH HARLEM

Repiten Cocoa Brovaz con Tony Touch y Hurricane en el blog con este temazo, sacado del Lp The rude awakening , 1998, enjoy

Video clip:



Letras:

ah where's everybody up
(Speaking Spanish)

[Tony Touch]
it's Tony Toca, the one that's got you screamin "Esta loca"
dalle juevo Is my mic Leggo my Eggo
spanish Harlem all the way to san diego
make it happen
you know, like movin yayo
i set my product, that shit's far from the palace
mantequilla not manteco oh senso mia
cocoa brovaz, hurricane, mida mida
ton touch sound doofy eatin fajitas
chillin in the b-boy stance
in my Adidas
while senoritas be screaming Buenos Dias
rock steady by now you know the steelo
mi correo still gets down on the leelo
tahino indians welcome to my teepi
pop in the CD and let's get freaky
(Speaking spanish)
boriquia, about to pass it off to the rasta

[Tek]
It's the el generalno
tell your baqua where's the hydro
if the chocolito make my eyes low
BC a tomb bab with me and my man
trying to double our ends with the el capitain
(speaking Spanish)
(speaking Spanish)
undressin me, thinking about sexin me
while I (?)

[Steele]
blazing, kicking lingo with this bingo
who got hot making the peicos out in santo domingo
el socio, used to go to the acopulco
every weekend tricking on chulas, he was beatin
but on the streets of harlem around the grand concourse
he had to force a loco, with amigos he used to boss
a dios mios, just like el ninos (?)

Chorus: [Tek, (Steele)]
harlem got the pace in it (boogie, boogie got the cake in it)
crooklyn keeps on takin it (queens cats been making it)


[Tek]
i do this for my soldiers in the streets
who stand toast to toast with the cousin asleep
making illegal transactions
world-wide connections
forced up a change like the name smif-n-wessun
see me coming through and my nigga clef too
or the 650 blowing up the Grant's Tomb
mobb beats to protect slaying your street bite
like a killing, over-dealing for the pearly white

[Hurricane G]
blows down your mother f**king roof
it be hurricane g, subwoofin out ya asshole
from first staff, up through parks from the heart
they better stand though and my niggaz up in spanish harlem
who don't give a f**k and my box stuck cutting up tribal
forget the hydro, cause we gonna keep it live all night yo
yeah one love to my fam in boriquia land
my emanitos sparking up trees
112 buddah keys barking up puerto rican queens
smacking all rice and beans
and you know my emanitas keep it real
in timboso high hills
all my pitycitas who ain't f**king around
sontaras holdin shit down for the crown
tony touch, cocoa brovaz and i
keep the body all high
no doubt
if he CPR in the mother f**king house
i'm talking about crazy puerto ricans
who beefing
a few heads is busted because I see them leaking
freaking, because I be frying bitches up like hoochie fritos
for my 5 bitchulitos
Yo, yeah word up and if you can't get wit it then kiss my a*s
but your, on thea real I wanna say one love and rest in peace
to my nigga Bridge from 112
big up Johnson Projects
jefferson in the house
an the whole spanish harlem
word up one love to the barrio, cocoa brovaz, tony touch and hurricane g
peace daycoro song papi
uh what yeah yeah
uh what uh

MAKE OR TAKE

y seguimos con un tema de Nine en el que colabora Smooth da hustler, sacado del Lp de 1996 Cloud 9, disfrutarlo...

lyrics:

(NINE)
Man this world we live in
there's two to ways do everything
the right way and the wrong way,
thens there's the short way and the long way.
But I'm goina do my thing the DARK MASK WAY.
I'm either goina make it or I'm goina take it.

(CHORUS- Smooth da Hustler)
I got to make something or I got to take something
even if it comes down to hustling in public
I'm goina do whatever to avoid the stormy weather
got my act together either make or take

(NINE)
In the land of the free and the home of the brave
I still feel like a slave, my heart is dark like the bat cave
Don't cry... dry your eye...
we all goina die... but I'm goina die fly
In the race the great paper chase
Money's the only thing I'm goina let you throw in my face
Corrupt political officials
speak the issues, and dis u, like used toliet tissue
I'm goina miss u when u fall into the flames it's the same games
with new names, and new gains, same pains, and blood stains
propaganda, I want to smoke trees in a havanna, wearing a bandanna
at the Coppa Cabanna, swear to god I split a nigga like a banana
over currencies or property aint no stoppin me
I'm building a monopoly now copy me, each one teach one
Lessons of making and taking erasing, faking, and snaking
Serious like a Jamaican
and I bring home the bacon daily, really,
I never fake it, I got to make it, like it's sacred
Fuck around and I'm goina take it

(chorus 2x)

(NINE)
My hand raps around dollar bills sends chills down my spine
like cheap wine, so I gotta get mine,
all the time I rewind back to the day when I realized sometimes crime
pays, there's a million ways to die but only one to live,
I need enough money to spend enough
money to give cause I love my peeps and my peeps love me
and I refuse to see them living in proverty
I gotta be on point, I anoit myself savior with new flavor
like craig with my third eye I cried
Shed tears in the mind for being blind
Only thing left for me now is crime or ryhme

(chorus 2x)

(NINE)
I refuse to lose simular to chuck
never bite the hand that feed u never bite the hand that buck (pow)
now what! stuck in a maze with only one way out
figure it out that's what life's about
Trail after trail, tribulation after tribulation
I want a black nation cause I'm sick of the plantation
No more picking cotton have you forgotten
we the kings and queens of the earth
Now rome in the rotten apple, drinking Snapple
trying to get a little capital, spend it like I'm crazy
That's what rap will do, you got to maintain
Make sense out of what's insane and stay on top of your game
Dont blame nobody but yourself for your lack of wealth
Times get hard get sneaky like a stealth
Make or take is the thesis
I want pieces of the pie gotta do or die

(chorus 2x)

BROKEN LENGUAGE

Temazo de Smooth Da Hustler colaborando con Trigger tha Gambler, sacado del disco Once Upon a Time in America de 1996, disfrutarlo....

el video:



y las lyrics:

[Trigga]
Uh, base your eyes on the guy
no kind of worries if I die
so pussy glai try
dangerfield steppin my way
bodies get creamated on a Friday the do or die way
your death threater, sender, head spinner
rap beginner, light dimmer
3 knockout count winner
your gun reacher, bustin shot teacher
your funeral service church preacher
your black hearse coffin seeker
The body polluter, the gat shooter
the Brownsville wild Brooklyn trooper
the cock D mountain mover
the face basher, the mista brain smasher
the ax waxer, the drug money stasher...

[Smoothe]
The money stasher, gun blastin razor slasher
the human asthma breath taker
body dump waster
the glock cocker, block locker the rock chopper,
the shot popper, the jock cock glocker
The face splitter, human disgrace getter
the lady shitter, phone joneser
sneak over fuck your babysitter
The chronic smokin, gun totin hearse initiator
the crack supplier, the human drug generator
The honey gamer, the chicken tricker
the slick the long dick pussy sticker
the ready to bust that ass kicker
The track manoeuvre, the box barrier
the off of the dome rapper
the c-74 ox carrier....

[Trigga]
The gun seller, the chest sweller
the stick up smack bank teller
the money-back dweller
The stitch provider, the guess rider
the clip inserter, bullet shooter experter
the man next to murder...

[Smoothe]
The ho disser, the cunt man, the I dont want clan
the stunt hitter in 34 days in a month man
the front man, the Brooklyn representer
the beat down center, the two brothers
the hottest niggas out this fuckin winter

[Trigga]
The girl cheaters, the beef ass beaters
the street sweep keeper, the body to concrete meeter
the blood skeeter
The weed smoker, the liver choker
the spot stop broker, the rugged picture poser
the card scrambler,
royal flush same suit brouke the gambler
nasty amateur damaged ya,
snatch masta without the camera

[Smoothe]
Camera, beer guzzeler
the slug to your mug tuzzeler
the drug juggeler, the crazy thug hustler
the Lexus wanter
the chain-ring and bracelet flaunterer
The chamber smoker
the mansion havin sauna soaker
The corner stander, the style crammer
take over spot block commander
the glock on cock handeler
The razor spitter
the fast dough casper getter
the transmitter, North Carolina vagina hitter...

[Trigga]
The Ac kicker, internal heart dark sticker
the red scope body hitter
here to hang wit Digga and a buddha niggas
The trigga happy, father gun call it papi
my gun blow out waves patterns to keep your hair nappy
The to death thinker, M.O.P. bell ringer
how about some hardcore fan singer
the jam swinger...

[Smoothe]
The Nautica wearer, the Karl Kani man
the missed to get jaked, the fly man
notorious ready to die man
the knower killer, the expert slinger
the white girl gang banger
the jesus"..."
the vital kicker, the drug dealer and title stripper
the idol flipper
the cross breaker and bible ripper....

[Trigga]
The black history driver
the racial thinker
The 9 to 9 to 5 offer the jaw sinker
The hell fighter, the revelation writer
the Egyptian spirit inviter
the black body bag tire
The money stasher, the shit crapper
the a-k-a club basher
my brother gotta record racker

The battle spinner
The grand prize winner
The life and death beginner
the 95 interstate highway to heaven sender
The coke cooker, the hook up on your hooker hooker
the 35cents short send my 25's over looker
The rap burner, the Ike the Tina Turner
ass whippin learner, the hitman, the money earner
The tologist without the derma
me and my little brother
The cock me back, bust me off nigga
The undercover
glock to your head pursuer
The Big Daddy Kane, Little Daddy Shane over doer

TRUE FUSCHNICK

Temazo de Fu-Schnickens, la primera cancion de su lp debut F.U. Don't Take It Personal del año 1992, disfrutarlo...



aqui el video




aqui las letras:

I'm a True what? I am a True Fushnick
Repeat 3X
So sit Buddah sit what lyrical styles should we kick?

I'm a rowdy roddy piper I flash my dread sherlock Holmes
The thicker the richer the bigger the dread
So I don't need no honeycomb
So eeney meeney miney mo good goobelly goo I bumped my toe
Oh-oh, "oh-oh better get Maoco" chocolate Chip's about to flow
The super the cola the fraja the listic expialadope Chip
When the mic is gripped in ridobidobip bip da be bong de dang, Bo!
Cuz worries and boderations when i raps it up again and again But not
with the same FU style I'm wicked and wild and versatile
When the mic is gripped by Chip you better believe it's worth your
while
Pause for the cause stop make way hurry up
Here I come come come
My lyrical styles are not to ifos nos in other words
They're not soft son rocks it rigade raggamuffin say it backwards
Aggarniffum so abra Fu alacazam run come follow me man
Put it by one phenomenon huminahumina I'm not done
Me-oh-me oh my hello hello hi
I'm not Huckleberry Finn I'm still speaking, shoo, fly
Don't bother i
So Fe hello hifi Fu fo, i make shapes with Pay-dough re me
Near far then I will stitch sew Lipton Tea bo Tae Kwon Do
Lyrics are bubbling, bubbling, bubbling, bubbling, bubbling,
bubbling,*bubbling,*bubbling,*bubbling,*bubbling,*bubbling,*bubbling,
bubbling til' they're boiled
So don't drink the milk, Why? Cause it's rotten in other words it's
spoiled
So don't say drats, drats double or triple or quadruple drats
Me big and me black and me hot up de spot G jumping Jehosphats
Some mic's rhymes ain't saying jack nor Jill
and of my styles they peak-a-boo o what I
doo wa diddy diddy dum diddy FU
So peace to his FU, peace to the FU
And a true FU, Poc Fu, is what I dub you

I'm a True, what I am a True Fuschnick
Repeat 3X
So sit, Buddah, sit what lyrical styles should we kick?

Rock n' roll, rock'n roll!
What's up with hip-hop, reggae, let's kick some soul
I'll be a braveman like Captain Caveman
Unga bunga, yapple-daple
oh, snap! Holy batfu, it's an apple
The capital P.O.C. is on a fliptop so hip, hip hooray
Move out my way
Check out what I cockadoodle doo
See it's true I needed psychiatric help
When I was small I had "Poc-Fu" on my nameplate belt
Then at last suffering succotash I waste no more time
Used my noodle yankee doodle came up with a rhyme
That was wild, bugged, delirious, looney
Damn! it's hittin' hard
That's word to Jerry Cooney
Knocking heads off shoulders rippin' em clean
you can even ask iddy (why?) he know what I mean
Cuz I'm a

I'm a True, what? I am a True Fuschnick
Repeat 3X
So sit, Buddah sit what lyrical styles should we kick?

Moc's on wax grip, this ain't no demo
Don't even try to flex or uck-fay with my
Mental contender, Apollo
Time for training, jack
Agenda. The M.O. also the Asian Mack
In fact I will attract, shock shit, a True Fuschnick
Classified as I crop to the crip
Not a gimmick to the limit, upset, confused,
you gotta want
From the excess food called waste
But a taste of oriental True Fu
No haste as I pace
Gogoo gogoo, nanoo-nanoo
Styles that'll have you becomin' a Fuschnick too
Psyche!
Wait a minute, you thought that I was finished
Beginnin' in a hum endin' in a beat drum
Beat?
You like it, it's comin' from the Tribe, side by side
Third stage is the Moc
Unifying lyrics until my tongue drops
Considered as an mc klepto
Techniques could be beat, you think so?
Hell, no!
Romp and rage upon the scene like a lyrical
Ninja master
Crazy zany voiced out styles
that had ya in a dimension as I mentioned
A True Fu steppin'
All attention to the Micken
Styles that I am kickin', whippin', flexin, never flippin
Asian that is hittin' hard until my cup runneth over
Like a boulder never told ya
The M.O. was in control of
Oriental styles to compile or get with
Fiend as I hold the mic with a tight grip
Slipped!
Ha, ha, ha!
That's what you get when you mess around with a True Fuschnick

I'm a True, what? I am a True Fuschnick
Repeat 3X
So sit, Buddah, sit what lyrical styles should we kick

CODE OF THE STREETS

temazo de Gangstarr, de su cuarto Lp, Hard to earn de 1994, disfrutarlo...

Video clip (largo y censurado):



Y las lyrics:

Take this for example young brothers want rep
Cause in the life they're living, you can't half step
It starts with the young ones doing crime for fun
And if you ain't down, you'll get played out son
So let's get a car, you know, a fly whip
Get a dent, pull a screwdriver, and be off quick
With a dope ride, yeah, and a rowdy crew
We can bag us a Benz and an Audi, too
Even a jeep or a van, goddamn, we're getting ours, yo
Take a trip up the strip, and be like stars so
It doesn't matter if the cops be scoping
They can't do jack, that's why a young brother's open
To do anything, anywhere, anyplace
Buckwild in another court case
It's the code of the streets

They might say we're a menace to society
But at the same time I say "Why is it me?"
Am I the target, for destruction?
What about the system, and total corruption?
I can't work at no fast-food joint
I got some talent, so don't you get my point?
I'll organize some brothers and get some crazy loot
Selling D-R-U-G-S and clocking dollars, troop
Cause the phat dough, yo, that suits me fine
I gotta have it so I can leave behind
The mad poverty, never having always needing
If a sucker steps up, then I leave him bleeding
I gotta get mine, I can't take no shorts
And while I'm selling, here's a flash report
Organized crime, they get theirs on the down low
Here's the ticket, wanna bet on a horse show?
You gotta be a pro, do what you know
When you're dealing with the code of the streets

Nine times out of ten I win, with the skills I be weilding
Got the tec one dealing, let me express my feelings
Guru has never been one to play a big shot
It's just the styles I got that keep my mic hot
Anf fuck turning my back to the street scene
It gives me energy, so Imma keep fiends
Coming, just to get what I'm selling
Maybe criminal or felon dropping gems on your melon
So keep abreast to the GangStarr conquest
Underground ruffnecks, pounds of respect
I've never been afraid to let loose my speech
My brothers know I kick the code of the streets