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Rakim
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Musical Massacre
Lyricist:Eric Barrier, J Castor, William Griffin, J Pruitt, G Thomas
Take that microphone from that kid and heat it up
I keep the mic hot, I heat it up, kid I keep the mic hot, I heat it up I keep the mic hot, I heat it up
Mic check, y'all, then throw it to the floor The crowd wanted more so I came in the door The great Rakim paper mates to the pen Knowledge is born and the light strikes again
Elements burst and gave birth to the first Get the pen from the nurse and hook the mic up first When it absolutely, positively has to be there on time I deliver a rhyme
The heckler of hip hop, hop to this one I got more, kid, they hate to miss one Style got jazz and the crowd's out of control 'Cause I've got the mic and I've got the soul
New York's own microphone technician Thoughts'll give 'em visions, style'll make you listen Devastates the ear, my opponents can't see me I gave 'em directions but wrote it in graffiti
But they wanna know my m.o., ease back though They want the exact flow, then study my steelo Sketch the skit but they still can't see what I did I heat the mic up, kid
I keep the mic hot, I heat it up, kid I keep the mic hot, I heat it up I keep the mic hot, I heat it up I keep the mic hot, I heat it up I keep the mic hot, I heat it up
Then I explode with a song with a original form Or I'll perform it at high mode, they want the code Destroyed the blueprints and documents and hits Crews been, umm, looking for clues ever since
Beats start brewing up, rhymes is rough Stages and microphones self-destruct And when you thought you had the format down pat You get kicked back to the doormat with that
'Cause I've got a high tech style with know-how Select the file, watch the crowd go wild Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com Bad beats to bless the females' finesse Points shot stress causing cardiac arrest
Mics too hot for you to told in your hands Now they sell 'em with fifteen fans and mic stands Mine still overheats, if you touch it you can see what I did I heat the mic up, kid
I keep the mic hot, I heat it up, kid I keep the mic hot, I heat it up I keep the mic hot, I heat it up I keep the mic hot, I heat it up I keep the mic hot, I heat it up
If his opponents'll run a rap, tell 'em ease back I've got a knapsack with hip hop attacks Stacks of artifacts, formats in the act Tracks after macs and you can't relax
Rakim's equipped with penmanship Left my pen mate, I could graduate from Penn State I could take any trade and make a high grade Even get extra credit when the rhyme's displayed
As soon as I manifest, they cheat off my test Surround my desk and then stress the progress But they miss the point, forget the skit I'll bust your lip if you rip the script
Brother's ain't cool and I'ma smoke up the room And I've got a crew called the last platoon Figure it out, kid, problem's coming Emcees are running 'cause I'm the gunman
Extremely dangerous I bust rhymes into the crowd And watch 'em all scream out loud Aww, man, and then I slam like a batteram Ra got the plan with your favorite jam
I keep the mic hot, I heat it up, kid I keep the mic hot, I heat it up I keep the mic hot, I heat it up I keep the mic hot, I heat it up I keep the mic hot, I heat it up
The last platoon Rakim You know what I mean? And I'm out
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