 |
|
0:39 | 
|
||
|
from Das Efx - Straight Up Sewaside (1993)
Raise the dead, protect your soul
Now it?s time for rock and roll |
|||||
|
|
4:02 |
|
||
|
from Das Efx - Straight Up Sewaside (1993)
Yeah, 1-2 1-2
Ha, let you know how I do Verse 1: Dray, Skoob Holy smokes, cheerio chap, I'm makin toe taps so watch the birdie Now check it how I wreck it like a demolitian derby wit the Books, oops tutz, I used to live on Bedford but now I rocks the microphone and chill like Robert Redford So bring it cos I can swing a kid like Reggie Jackson I got the backs 'n' bones but now I needs some action Aiyo you can call me Plato because my style is in there and I'll dig in that anus, man, as if my name was 'swimwear' See I rock a hoodie sweater, more wood than Woody Pecker I twist it like an ankle, G, or maybe Chubby Checker In LA I hit the chronic, I'm super like the Sonics I jab you with the left and swing a hook without the phonics Okey dokey, hocus pocus, I make the dopest MC call a timeout Cos yo I rip the shit out when it's time to throw my rhyme out I'm twisted, my flow'll make you dizzy like Gillespie If ya test me I rip and flip ya script and then I jet-sy Yo I be rippin it like I get busy, I gymnastics when my raps gets I slams a punk like Jordan slams a dunk wit the basket Ballsy, I got ya all three ???? so Fuck it what you heard, you need to get with what you're hearin yo Chorus: Down down down down Make way for the undaground rappa Down down down down ........undaground rappa Down down down down Make way for the undaground rappa Down down down down (*All I need is just a mic and a track*) Verse 2: Dray, Skoob Aiyo, my crew is top notch, I smell like sasquatch, that's why I rip shop My crew be on the hustle plus we tighter than a zip lock I freaks it vice-versa or maybe versa-vice-a It really doesn't matter, kid, you're sleepin cos I'm nicer I'm growin lime to a lemon to break inside your car See when I be on the block I'm like that nigga Agent R Cos when I talk, niggas listen, I rip til I drizz em Perhaps Jack, I make you wanna clap to the rhythm Well yo, I'm wicked, not Jimminy Cricket or Davy Crockett Some niggas wanna rock it when they think that I'm block it wit my grammar, cos yo I am a super flower Ya best ta back the hell up when I swell up like a boa constrictor, cos yo I rip tha mic in half, G Even if I slowed up your couldn't pass me Well hello there momma, you better be bringin the drama to a pause like a comma or I'ma have to drop you like some drawers So hey hey hey, you thought I was just another bat like JJ cos I be usin a *?calender?* stupider dishin nay-nays So what's the way I'm flippin like a double-header drinkin I rolls two spliffs so now I guess I'm double jointed Chorus Verse 3: Dray, Skoob I be the devious, mischevious kid believe-me-est Not the move to rip cos in a drip I freaks the sleaziest Rappa-tight funk, punk I be rippin Niggas know my name I got more game than Scottie Pippen Yo I be kickin it to the optic, grins for-min when I'm knockin skins on niggas who be clockin ends, oh next I guess I rock a Benz But now I be em, niggas be like "Oh did ya see him?" I'm creepy, I'm kooky and plus I make you scream See I don't understand why niggas be wantin to do me You don't arouse me kid, you're softer than that Cosby kid Rudy Huxtable, I bust a fuse like turns on a drum pattern That one rings around that ass, G, like Saturn Chorus |
|||||
|
|
3:17 | 
|
||
| from Das Efx - Straight Up Sewaside (1993) | |||||
|
|
3:56 |
|
||
|
from Das Efx - Straight Up Sewaside (1993)
Aaah ha ha ha (Check this out!)
Wooh! Check it out (Check this out) Aaaah yeah (Check this out) Ya just don't stop, kid ya just don't stop (Check this out) Yeah ya just don't stop, word up Aaah yeah! Chorus (x8): Check it out y'all (Check it check it out, dun) Verse 1: Dray, Books Check this out, yo, yo Well check it out it's the incredible, never edible, unforgettable dweller from the cellar kickin terror cos I'm terrible See I be schoolin em, foolin em when I'm speakin it Peepin it cos y'all be keepin it, look how I'm freakin it I got'cha tinglin, tinglin and minglin Border way to go, the radio they got my single in They rockin this, ain't no toppin this when I'm droppin this style that I can buy cos yo I rhyme like a rhinoceros My skill is illy, silly when I work it Quick to flip the lip and rip a nigga out the circuit So step wit it, can ya get wit it when I'm flexin it Takin out these quick cos my nigga Books is next on it I know you're not set, check it, you're wonderin where the heck I've been Chillin stupid, cos there ain't no dooper who got wrecker than the Boogie Banger, it could be danger so back, tootz Cos we're guys but niggas wanna revise they rap books What up kid? I can sell you rugged with the hip-hoppin Throw it, like to see me from my nuts until my dick top What a bummer, it seem to be no MC can get dumber than Me one other, two niggas from the sewer, my shit is new without the *?bagnesia?* Cos G, I be's the man from here to Indonesia Aah yeah, you heard me, see I'm just another dirty dick Drastically, casually I puff the erb to get zone like the Senate, so Chorus Verse 2: Dray, Books Here I come so nigga don't be hatchin it, I'm snatchin it, niggas o'dose when I catch this Niggas in the dark, I spark at them like I was matches I set up quicker, kick a verse with no distortion I suggest MC's proceed with some caution I hip, tip, grippin tit because there ain't no way I'm gonna lift when I erupt like a volcano I'm acid, my crew is massive, you're soft like jello I'm gettin props, a habit like Abbott & Costello When I flaunt this, niggas want this, they'll be usin a squeegee when I'm bitchin cos bitch I'm comin to get your ass Comin to get'cha it's the D-Bats so nigga think back to the way I bring this or brung that, I swung that, now look at the way I'm swingin this just like my name was Joe DiMaggio and hell Dray! My 12 guage spit shells like pizaggio We can get it on and my word is bond and fuck who you be G Your crew is easy just like Sunday mornin when I'm yawnin so It's no sense in you losin what you got kid Cos G I be doin the mic like Mr.T be doin the chopsticks Ya gets done like no matter where ya from, jack for fun, I'm nailin rappers like a thumb tack I'm sort've spliffed so I don't think niggas order it Plus I'm the type you might not like to leave your daughter with Chorus (Check this out) (x9) Chorus to fade |
|||||
|
|
0:31 |
|
||
| from Das Efx - Straight Up Sewaside (1993) | |||||
|
|
3:19 |
|
||
|
from Das Efx - Straight Up Sewaside (1993)
Intro:
(Well I'ma freakit like that, and I'ma freak it like this) *repeat x3* Verse 1: Dray Well I'ma freakit like this so then my nigga Books is next The crew is from the sewer when the crew is Das EFX I wrecks cos when I flex I gots ta rip it Excuse me if some brew it makes me woozy when I sip it I'm wicked so let me kick it, I got my crew in I rips just for kicks, I got more dicks than *?Perduin?* I pick em, pluck em, stuck em wit my cock an' no my name ain't Santa but here's somethin for ya stockin I'm rockin, I got'cha Glock and I'm from the under Down to take my sound because it's bound to make ya wonder Chorus: Well I'ma freakit like that, and I'ma freakit like this Well I'ma freakit like that, and I'ma freakit like this Well I'ma freakit like that, and I'ma freakit like this Well I'ma freakit like that, and watch me freakit like this Verse 2: Books Well I'm freakit like dat wit more maneovers than the Heimlich when I rhyme wit the Krayz vertebraes in your spine-git Chills, rippin up the skills, I'm like wholesome and if the mic was paid so then my dollar run the Boston So just work it up and I'll be glad to blast they ass out the socket when I rock it like NASA and plus I'm gettin hysterical wit my lyrical concoctions I take it to the top then hook up pops and I'm dope when I'm slingin more hits than the Oakland A's I freakit like dat and then I'm swayz Chorus: Well I'ma freakit like this, and I'ma freakit like that *repeat x3* Verse 3: Dray Well I'ma freakit like this because I be doper than the dopest I focus on the mic and if you like it you can quote this I wrote this, I smoke this mic until it's heated The kid he tried ta battle me but then he got defeated I'm wheated, don't need that, no keep that, no sell-out cos if I ever do you know my crew'll get the hell out I'm quipped with the lingo, my thing go for days I flip it when I rip it cos I like what it pays I'm dip dodge dope, y'know I'm gonna get'cha cos now I rocks the mic just like a battle was a pitcher Chorus: Well I'm freakit like that, and I'ma freakit like this *repeat x3* Verse 4: Books Well I'ma freakit like that cos black I bust caps with roughrats and plus I does the *?sub dat?*, flip scripts and dust chaps off with the quickness, I'm wicked with the propaganda and hot damn, I got more props than that Fox Samantha The hickory-dick slickest nigga wit the raps that sound nifty, wait around to pound sixty I'm freakin the rap slurries witta black skullie hat on I'm sweepin on chucks like niggas knew me from the platform I'm dope when I'm swingin more hits than the Oakland A's I freakit like dat and then I'm swayz Chorus: Well I'ma freakit like this, and I'ma freakit like that *repeat x7* *shoutouts* |
|||||
|
|
4:23 |
|
||
|
from Das Efx - Straight Up Sewaside (1993)
Verse 1: Dray
I gotta suprise-uh, I is a bit wiser, oh yes I gets biz, G I mention I sling the slang wit me and my man just like it's a frisbee Ya flimsy, my thinga-majig is the illest, I throw it like Willis Heiman, when I'm rhymin I'm makin the pape's like Simon says ta, my stick it ta master, I still be the best-a I figgity (fuck) the flame but in the sun, now time for Esther So hi-ho I'm Silver, I'm makin the pape's when I kicks the (shit) that'll make you muck when I lose his fleas, lice and his ticks For the chicks, I be on my good foot, check it, that ass kicks So yibbida yabber yoozy, (fuck) that floozy Suzy Chapstick So here boy, here boy, come get some, it's Krazy I'm swingin my Dukes of Hazard just like ???? on Daisy I'm swayze Hook (x8): (*Rappaz just ain't what they used to be*) Verse 2: Books I hears ya snorin, you niggas is sleepin, nighty nighty Lord almighty, I'm bringin it live G, see I be rippin and flippin a tongue but some niggas don't seems to digs me so I switch, B, like Billy Bigsby cos I'm the (shit), G U hoo Dixie, they dribblin in they Timberlands I criminal mix styles, oh I flow like adrenaline Yikes man, the nigga is nice man so thinkin I lost it but I hypin crews wit the bass then they crossed it So hip hip hooray, wantin me while I do a new way to school a new jay, you say "Holy Shamrocks, the man rocks with no beat or ham hocks" Oh yes-in, send the rest in, peace to grandpops Hook (x8) Verse 3: Dray Well um, knock knock, who's that? Guess what? My crew's back rippin the hip-hop, Penelope pitstop Doin the bitin, the shit I be writin, you're givin me rabies They oughta be usin my trims for sperm and makin babies Hey ladies, I know A-B's, I'm makin CD's I heard you was eatin your spinach kid, you better be eatin your Weeties Comprendo, so let your friends know I'm losin my noodle cos when it be time to doodle, I lose my scruples, ask my pupils I'm the slippery slang slipper, quick tp rip a QB Shooby dooby dooby, I do that new G So you be Kool & The Gang and I puts my slang in Hangin loosely, oh yes G, niggas be tryin to test me Hook (x8) Verse 4: Books Hear ye, don't look any further G, see he here is Still mic checkin (shit), still Dead Serious Hello there, I didn't go nowhere, whatup with the static G? I be damagin niggas' fronts like them creases in your cavity For real though, jumpin jallopy's huh, I'm robbin that hockey huh I drop these bumpy cos my style is knock-kneed So me and my-a, I's flyer then the witches sweeper Deep, as keep ya's drunk, jump into it like Aretha I Boogie Bang bang the thang like a cramp style slant Niggas be tryin to hang but they can't G Will agains, I'm gettin elegant with the skill again It don't mean a thang if I ain't got my philly friend Hook (x8) |
|||||
|
|
1:30 |
|
||
| from Das Efx - Straight Up Sewaside (1993) | |||||
|
|
3:34 |
|
||
|
from Das Efx - Straight Up Sewaside (1993)
(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 f----- 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 |
|||||
|
|
4:52 |
|
||
|
from Das Efx - Straight Up Sewaside (1993)
Bring it in one time, solid scheme
Hook: (x3) (gotta story to tell y'all) (here's a lil' story I got ta do) Verse 1: books Uh Well say hello to the bad guy or am I or (shit) cos I'm ya Local slinger swinger, quick ta bring the drama Plus not takin the sweat but test me if ya wanna I'm baggin kids up like they bag that chick t'wanna *? prawley? *, some ignore me, others I bother For the props and top dollar, g I'm doin what I gotta, see I puts the fear in ya heart kid, I start (f**kin) for nuttin And no this ain't the dope that catch ya cuttin, bust Now's the time to make my move cos I'm out to do tha Kid that tried to slip for some buda, sleep (word up) I peeped every spot his boys be, I got crew But what am I do is get somebody new to do it for me I'm catchin wreck to prove a point, time is loot And I ain't spinnin it in the joint but better yet These days I'm all professional, some new (shit) I got I check this nigga that I used to snatch jewels wit Back in the day but nevertheless the kid's ass' slingin gas To pay bills to 'ford some pills that kill stress (I hear ya kid) Now as for me g let's just say I learnt the rules I paid my dues and now I cruise in my lexus No better time than the present to make him an offer He can't refuse but might regret it, so i'ma set it Hook Verse 2: dray Well, umm, take this job and shove it Punk (f**k) it, another day of workin My boss is on my back and I'm about to go berserkin Catch a fit money grip cos pumpin gas is a bitch way Niggas be ridin by my job and frontin like they bitchin I wanna bust wit disgust cos I'm sour (aha) Takin all the (shit) and only gettin four dollars a hour There go some bitches swearin that they better Givin a cold shoulder as they roll by in the (f**kin) jetter I gets no pay though cos they know that you know Can't wait to take a (f**kin) break so I can go and puff this buddha I'm bustin my ass but my cash just ain't stockin Now who's this creepin up the (f**kin) block-in? Clockin, lookin like he really wanna test this Just another dick, I oughta stick him for that lexus The (shit) is killin me, why this kid grillin me? Actin like he wanna bust caps and start fillin me Up wit some hot (shit), I spot (shit), I'm buggin I f**kin know this nigga because he used to be thuggin My area, causes hysteria, I guess he chillin We used ta rob niggas back in the day when I was illin Like jaw-cappin niggas just for yappin He claim he got some loot that I can make, I give a clappin Umm, let him kick it cos I ain't tryin to sink in I need to make this dough so now ya know he got me thinkin Hook Interlude: dray & (books) conversing Yo what up kid? I know that was you b, yo waz up? (yo what up kid? yo, I'm just out here doin my thing man I'm tryin ta make this loot man, what up to you? ) Yo what's up? put me on kid, ya see what I'm doin? ? (I'm sayin man, what you doin man? ) Word up, I get off in a few b (aight! yo I'm tryin ta see ya, word is bond!) Yo yo, I ain't frontin kid, word is bond! (yo i'ma see ya aight) Verse 3: dray, books Bringin it back cos now I'm wit it I'm lookin ta make this loot so now I figure I hooked up with this nigga Because he bound to make my pocket's bigger I'm lookin ta do this just gimme the cue and I'm willin He scooped up, suit me up Boost me ups so now I guess we're chillin I'm guessin we're like on some back-in-the-day (shit) I need you to do me this Justice, some busters keep on playin me on some stupid (shit) Crab nigga, up on the block he's just a tad bigger Time to earn the cash so here's the burner and the match nigga Yeah yeah yeah that sound cool so gimme the 2 because I'm on it I leave em layin stiff and if that's how ya really want it I'm buggin when I pull it, watch the bullet leave em leakin Yo, hold up, cops! yo I think them cops is peepin Oh (shit), where they at? stash the gat, toss the erb 'cause Jakes checkin my plates and I'm tryin not to swerve, word My nuts is shot, I think these cops is like schemin g I'm pullin to the curb because these *? hertz? * is high -beamin me *police sirens* Hook |
|||||
|
|
2:56 |
|
||
|
from Das Efx - Straight Up Sewaside (1993)
(*You see, you can't back out on me now. This is the only place in town I
can get these titles*) (*The question is....*) Intro: Ah yeah, wontu (get busy nigga), word up Ha ha (check check) (Books) Gimme room to get this mic check cos I'm about to wreck it one time for my peeps from the sewer My sewer style run thru any slum crew tryin to get the wontu checks, cos rippin dialects is what my tongue do Best sold on a-nother slang son-a Yo Krazy come and kick it like the (shit), well hear, I wanna! (Krazy Drayzie) Well here I be-a with the quickness, kid I'm wit this, I rip to swig my verses Just because they think this be like leapin out my curses Who's the next jerk to test the expert? You might regret it I fry ya to a *?fricker?* seed cos if you see me, baby, be like curtains I put the hurt ins on that body when I spark it I'm super like the market when I'm bringin niggas' harkin (Skoob) Yeah it's my man and me bringin more horrors than that gripplin Amity- ville, still my crew be pullin bitches like Vanity Six for kicks cos I write songs like I was lyrical Straight from the bottom of the pit with the residue If niggas wanna box with rhymes than ring the bellhops Cos yo I got more lives than ????? ????? (Dray) Aiyo well check it, it's my follow up so watch me swallow up these kids for rippin Boy I shock em when I rock em cos my crew be on a mission Boy I swing it yes indeedy, I get more props than Speedy Gonzalez, make more dollars than these niggas write graffiti Boy I'm straight up, you're gettin ate up, that's how it go Bring terror to your era so you better check my flow so Interlude (Skoob) OK, I float just like some helium and stings like tobasco The nice with mic skills ever since I had an afro Aw shit, sometimes I get the notion when I'm rippin to flow or slang, is it just to keep a nigga slippin Think I ain't when I is or is it when I ain't From subject to butter, kid my retoric is spank It's no competition when I'm flixin with my diction Oops flexin to the beat y'all, yes yes yes (Dray) I cross my heart and hope to spark up blood the size of marker Some say I look like Books but, kids I be a tad bit darker Ain't no jokin when I'm rhymin, I'm in effect so check my structure I switch again, I'm in this bitch again see how I flucture Wait, I'm great, ya niggas know who sent this I be knockin out more teeth than your local family dentist Boy, I'm dynamite, just peep the rhymer right, that gets me over You better get'cha crew because the *?duke?* is when I grow up Interlude |
|||||
|
|
3:58 |
|
||
|
from Das Efx - Straight Up Sewaside (1993)
Intro/Chorus:
Now ya got the Krazy, Krazy wit da Books Yes yes y'all, yes y'all, yes y'all, yes y'all Now ya got the Krazy, Krazy wit da Books Yes yes y'all, yes y'all, yes y'all, yes y'all Now ya got the Krazy, Krazy wit da Books Yes yes y'all, yes y'all, yes y'all, yes y'all Now ya got the Krazy, Krazy wit da Books (Fire em up higher on some new rhyme flow) Verse 1: Dray, Skoob Well comin to school ya it's the hooligan, I'm in the mood again so watch me do this I'm out to do these rappers just like Popeye did Brutus The super dooper trooper, oops I'm no beginner So watch me get loose and run (shit) like Bill Skinner I formulate my raps, perhaps you wanna kick it There's niggas down my slack, yes I'm the baddest when I wreck it See I'm nicer than the rest, I guess I gots ta prove it Ya cruisin for a bruisin if ya bite it when I use it See I'm quick to shoot the giff, and if ya tryin ta stop it I got mad skills like loose change in my pocket I drop it from the East, at least I'm gettin mine in Some niggas gettin jealous cos of the way that I be rhymin Ooh, hello there, how the hell are ya? Sorry to keep you waitin It's like nuttin when I'm throwin somethin rougher than menstruation Crabs, I'm followed by a camp like John Cougar Mellen, tell them punks I put a swellin, for the lords split'cha I kick tails that tips scales on the ricter I dip-dip-dob wit more drive than the Harlem River Oh what the hell, I smoked a half a el then ???? Pick up my grip then spark the clip and get puffin see It's back to basics if you're wacked then niggas hate we got the knack to freak a track like I was printin in some nations Boy, I'm slipper than soap-on-a-rope I'm madder than the Mad Hatter and Yabber Dabber Dope and you can quote... Chorus Verse 2: Dray, Books Well once again it's the spectacular, I checkin the back and ya (fuckin) face it Terrorisin MC's as if my name was Jason I crash 'n' clash em, monster mash em til they suckle I'm quick to switch up and kick ass like Mr. Jekyll I bring it from the guts, my DJ got the cuts The (shit) that I bringin got'cha swingin on my nuts I'm not the typical lyrical guy that be a miracle Drop the type of (shit) that make ya flip and get'cha swivacle I'm nasty with the verbs, kid, I serve ya, rip the faucet My raps they never collapse cos on the tracks, see I be bustin like fireworks, I fire jerks scullin then I step I'm back from hibernation and I'm ween to keep a rep Give it a rest fool, straight balls of fire, boy I'm flyer than a cockpit Hah I rocks (shit) and knock niggas out the blocks wit Uncontrollable lyrical motions from my larynx I'm slick, watch your tip cos my clique might slam ya next like BOOYAA, no ya not true, don't mean illusion Kickin a styles til '96, taking backs to the future Plus I'm cool to fuck the brain, I drain a 40 for the belly I'm aimin for the charts just like this was a game of scelli Plus I'm sinkin ships, doin whatever makes the blow rock My crew is givin nothin, stuffin chicks without the showtime When I groove up put your dukes up or catch a oops-up Sad ya sleazy heart cos this the piece beneath the steps, boy Chorus to fade |
|||||
|
|
3:31 |
|
||
| from Das Efx - Straight Up Sewaside (1993) | |||||
|
|
3:33 |
|
||
| from Das Efx - Straight Up Sewaside (1993) | |||||
 |
|
4:55 |
|
||
|
from Das Efx - Dead Serious (1992)
Riggidy raow Ziggidy Gadzuks Here I go so
Fliggedy flame on g geronimo yo I biggedy burn riggedy rubber when I blabber great I miggedy make the Wonder Twins deactivate It's crazy I'm biggedy breakin' backs and bustin' lips I friggedy freaked Gladys Knight and those freakin' Pips Shrimps I miggedy make enough noise like Bamm Bamm Throw boulders from Bedrock you'll get dropped I slam man So check it I riggedy-wreck it quick, aw shucks I giddedy-got the big ducks like Daddy Warbucks I riggedy-rocked the coca-cabana Banana split {HACK-THO} Spit, so sit I friggedy-freak it from here to Bangladesh I riggedy-rippin' flesh plus I get fresh like this Swish, swiggedy-swooshed kid, you'll get it done Swooshed for fun, I riggedy-rhyme like no one I biggedy-bum riggedy-rush chiggedy-chumps, I'm savage I shake 'em up and down like the Down Jones Average I'm cocky, like Rocky, I biggedy-bangs the best So tiggedy-tell your friend, chump, 'cause here comes Das EFX A-higgedy-hoy there matey, I giggedy-gots to flow My Saturday nights are live-er than Joe Piscopo So yo, siggedy-save the bait for Charlie Tuna See I be the boogie banger, like Esiason's the Boomer I'm higgedy-hots to trot, I giggedy-gots the motts Jewels plus dreads, so toots, call me Goldilocks I ciggedy-catch the scoop from Peter Jennings Do a spin like the mag and I slide like Peggy Fleming Or a smiggedy-smack a fag and choke 'em up until he squeals I Hawiian punched the Captain and now I'm maxing with Tenille I piggedy-pack steel, I got a big gun I'm freaking the track from Brooklyn, yo, 'cause Brooklyn's where I'm from Tiggedy-time to get buck wild Call me Butterfingers, 'cause I dippedy-drop 'nuff styles Iggedy eeny meeny miney moe Shiggedy-bop, bap I'll snatch a rapper by his toe I riggedy-write my pages when I figgedy-feel the flavor I fliggedy-fly the friendly skies, so now I be a sky pager I friggedy-freaked the funka The rough Nestle Cruncher, word to Arch Bunker Give me the mike and I'll liggedy-light it up like Uncle Fester Microphone checka, one two checka I tiggedy take no shorts, I'm not the fella I can even act: Stella, Stella Yo Stella, here ciggedy-comes the bum rush, maybe No Static, I niggedy-knows more kids than um, Bebe So higgedy-hey hey hey not Dwayne but I got props I biggedy-bust rhymes like Slick Rick busts shots So when I friggedy-freaks the funk, I'll be the ill funk freaka I stiggedy-stole an apple from this bum named Bonita So riggedy-rub-a-dub I got the lip to make ya flip Bustin heads with Erik Sherman and my man Parish Smith Kiggedy-kiss my grits, check the jingle I diggedy-don't bruise but snooze like Rip Van Winkle So twinkle, twinkle, twinkle little star I sliggedy-slam dunk like Kareem Abdul-Jabbar Numbskull, I piggedy-pump up like Reebok Pumps I friggedy-freak the stuff that makes a camel lose his humps, chumps So wiggedy-where's the beef, um chief He figgedy-fits the mold like the gold that's on his teeth I rocks 'em, I socks 'em, I drops 'em, ah-choo So riggedy-ready sit down, hut one, hut two I diggedy dot my i's, and cross my tiggedy-t's, bro I swiggedy-swing more action than Hawaii Five-O |
|||||
|
|
3:31 |
|
||
|
from Das Efx - Dead Serious (1992)
Well I'm the jibber jabber jaw like Shabba
Franks making thanks operating like Trapper John M.D. yea that's what folks tell me I plan on going far and be a star like Marcus Welby So there dear uhum you suit though Yes I makes the ruckus causing ruckus like Menudo Or Judo I kicks it I throws them when I gamble And when I swings my thing I take a swing like Mickey Mantle But um I got more flavors than a pack of Now and Laters Beg your pardon, Mr. keebler, but I love Vanilla Wafers See, i got it going on 'cause of the songs that I write I got it going on 'cause my crew is nuff hype Plus I zitz em, I zamz em, I grams em like Zorro I shot the Dagazino for a bag of Stella Doro Breadsticks, oh yes it's the books plus three Of my cousins, Crazy Drazy, ?(Abe Blitz and Tea)? 'Cause we're (Chorus) Jussumen that's on the mic... Diggity yes, back up, I just come like Shaka Zulu, I pop like Orville Redenbacher When I'm proper, I doobity dibble dabble wit my winnings I drop a Def Jam as if my name was Russell Simmons I'm funky, spunky, I clock bread like Wonder I'll jump up and flex , make you think I'm jane Fonda I shiggity slam Rito, I'm layed back like Tito I good gots nuff wisdom like Mama Montigo, amigo Se Vente, yes I can samba I'm known like Geraldo, shishi karamba The jibbity jibba jammage, always wit the hippity houser I got crazy smarts like that kid Doogie Howser So cool out, Purno, I burn you no jive I wickity wax that scout like the words will be your five Diggity damn right half pint, i taste great like Bud Lite I'm well known like Spike or Walter Kronkite Cause we're Chorus Check it, 1 for the money, 2 for the show Thunder, Thunder, Thundercats, HO Yep, I got my moms, i got my girl, I got my friends And they say some making dollars, in Japan, I'm making Yenz Wit the new style, meanwhile, my real name is William I went and break a slut like Donald Trump can break a million Or zillion, I kills 'em, I watches All My Children I'm hard as women, watch it silly stunt, just ask the pilgrims I was strong from the get go, I'm not Lou Ferringo I never caught the cooties from a fluzy or a bimbo Like Cheeko, I'm the man, yes indeed, i got the smart, so When I take a stand, just take a seat like Rosa Arts Some tomato, tomato, bolongna, bolongna I use to fraggle rock ya but now I fraggle zone ya A loner, i can't swim, I'm laughing in my hoodie And I get down and boogie, oogie, oogie Cause we're Chorus I'm like Slick Rick the Ruler but I'm cooler that a calvin My mon's name is June, my pops name is Alvin I'm not your Kurt Gowdie but I'm outtie, Sianara So hit the road Jack so I can Welcome Back Kotter I flippity blast the ill shit, I flips them when I get them I chills wit the Books now mom paid out the rectum No comp, I stiggity stomp em all out like sash squash I'm deep, no steep, I'll make you wanna join backwash (zoom) I diggity drops a jam and now I'm slamming like Madonna I gave a crewcut to Sinead O'Conner Your honor, I'm bad to the bone, word is born 'Cause me and Mrs. jones, we got a thing going on Yes I am, my ?(gibitibibity)? bedroom will not end To the diggity cows come home, take the Gitney again 'Cause it's crazy, so give it a rest toots, don't you know me I go from ten to two just like Ivan Roni 'Cause we're Chorus |
|||||
|
|
3:39 |
|
||
|
from Das Efx - Dead Serious (1992)
Bum stiggedy bum stiggedy bum hon I got the old pa rum pum pum pum
But I can fe fi fo fum diddly bum here I come So Peter Piper I'm hyper than Pinochio's nose I'm the supercalafragilistic tic tac pro I gave my oopsy daisy now you've got the crazy Crazy with the books Googley goo where's the gravy So one two unbuckle my um shoe Yabba Doo hippity hoo crack a brew So trick or treat smell my feet yup I drippedy-dropped a hit So books get on your mark and spark that old censorship Drats and double drats, I smiggedy-smacked some whiz kids The boogedy-woogedly Brooklyn boy's about to get his, dig My waist bone's connected to my hip bone My hip bone's connected to my thigh bone My thigh bone's connected to my knee bone My knee bone's connected to my hardy-har-har-har The jibbedy-jabber jaw ja-jabbing at your funny bone, um Skip the ovaltine, I'd rather have a honeycomb Or preferably the sesame, Let's spiggedy-spark the blunts, um Dun dun dun dun dun, dun dun They want EFX, some live EFX They want EFX, some live EFX They want EFX, some live EFX Snap a neck for some live EFX Well I'll be darned, shiver me timbers, yo head for the hills I picked a weeping willow, and a daffodil So back up bucko or I'll pulverize McGruff 'Cause this little piggy gets busy and stuff Arrivederci, heavens to mercy, honky tonk I get swift I caught a snuffleufagus and smoked a boogaloo spliff I got the nooks, the cranies, the nitty gritty fodey-doe All aboard, cast away, hey where's my boogaloo? Oh I'm steaming, agony Why's everybody always picking on me They call me Puddin' Tane, and rap's my game You ask me again and I'll t-tell you the same 'Cause I'm the vulgar vegemintarian, so stick 'em up freeze So no Park sausages, Mom, please A-blitz shoots the breeze, twiddly-dee shoots his lip Crazy dazy shot the Sheriff, yup and I shot the gift And that's pretty sneaky, sis oh yep I got my socks off, my rocks off, my Nestle's cup of cocoa Holly hobby tried to slob me, tried to rob me silly stunt Diggedy-dun dun dun dun dun, dun dun They want EFX, some live EFX They want EFX, some live EFX They want EFX, some live EFX Snap a neck for some live EFX Yahoo, hidee-ho yup I'm coming around the stretch So here Fido boy, fetch, boy, fetch I got the rope-a-dope a slippery choker, look at me get raw And I'm the hickory-dickory top of morning boogoloo big jaw With the yippedy zippedy Winnie the Pooh bad boy blue, Yo crazy got the gusto, what up, I swing that too So nincompoop give a hoot and stomp a troop without a strain Like Roscoe B. Coltrane I spiggedy-spark a spiff and give a twist like Chubby Checker I take my Froot Loops with two scoops, make it double decker Oh Vince, the baby come to Papa Duke A babaloo, ooh, a babaloo boogedy boo I went from Gucci to Stussy, to fliggedy-flam a groupie To Zsa Zsa, to yibbedy-yabba dabba hoochie koochie Tally ho I-I'll take my Stove Top instead of potatoes, so Maybe I'll shoot 'em now, nope maybe I'll shoot 'em later, yep I used to have a dog and Bingo was his name oh, so uh B - I - N - G - O-oh You do the hokey pokey and you turn yourself around, hon, so uh Dun dun dun dun dun, dun dun They want EFX, some live EFX They want EFX, some live EFX They want EFX, some live EFX Snap a neck for some live EFX |
|||||
|
|
2:52 |
|
||
|
from Das Efx - Dead Serious (1992)
Intro/Hook:
Looseys I remember loosey (x8) Well bust how I'm flippin flappin Rippin up the rappin Look at the way I kick it I'm wicked it happen one night in Manhatten chillin buggin Me and some of the crew went around to this club and peeped it scoped it hope the shit was rockin Stuns by the bunch had the hunch they was clockin Stepped up dressed up the young got some weed back Honey got done then begun talkin to me, jack I kicked slang to her, all my niggas knew her I wanted to gas ahead and take her back to the sewer to do her, screw her I knew I had to hush when I felt my belly drop and the spot turned to mush Um, shush shush, I need me a push I felt loosey bubblin, trouble in my tush Then the gush came gushin, rushin, splat! The juice hooked my Davy D's quick like that Smack, I biggity-broke my bitch from behind Tried ta shake it, fake it but yo I couldn't hide from... Hook Well, dosey-do your partner as I start the intro Cos nobody does it better, correcta-mondo Back in '86 I was dick with the skills Playin ball in the gym with my nigga from the Ville I was runnin it like the trooper, had no time to play the small cat I had it goin on, word to mother I was all that, black So one day, believe it or not, I'm chillin I was playin against these niggas from The Bronx for some chitlins So bust it, I'm in it with my coojas, gimme the rock, G I float like a butterfly and kick like karate I scored 26, I caught a fake and now I'm Audi I'm takin it to the hoop and then this kid tried to foul me (HAAA!) Boom to the gutter, I hit the floor, I wanted to flip I couldn't, damn, all of a sudden I had to shit So I dipped to the sewer, I couldn't control the shit because it slipped past my dick, drip drip like a faucet Down past my shorts and hit the court and all of a sudden girls were gettin sick, all my niggas they was buggin I made it to the bowl leavin behind a trail of dookie My drawers are soakin wet and I'll never forget the day I met.... Hook to fade |
|||||
|
|
3:53 |
|
||
|
from Das Efx - Dead Serious (1992)
Intro/Chorus:
Dum dum dilly dee dum dum (Diddy diddy dum dum) Dum dum dilly dee dum dum (Diddy diddy dum dum) Dum dum dilly dee dum dum (Diddy diddy dum dum) Dum dum dilly dee dum dum (Dum dum) Verse One: Dray Aiyo peep it can you keep it down while I rock tick tock about this chick around the block? She was high host to the most hostess no boastin Back in '85 she was live yo no jokin A real go getter, didn't try and sweat her Fifteen years old and she was pushin a jetter She had loot, moms and pops dukes had the bankin She walked around school and the stunt would act stankin Bitch, young Miss, only dated older fellas My slang couldn't hang, no thang, I wasn't jealous of her Chorus Verse Two: Dray Oh yeah, where was I? Bustin, now I'm ready Now it's '87 and Miss Thing is goin steady She was schoolin, chillin cos her man was makin papers Tellin all her friends that these niggas caught the vapors He found her, phoned her, then yo we boned her Soon came a smack then he act like he owned her He used her, 'bused her, fractured her wrist then the Tommy got slapped behind her back gettin dissed I was buggin, nuff on the stuff that I was seein But that's how it goes for the hoes when they're bein...... Chorus Verse Three: Skoob Aiyo mirror, mirror, mirror, mirror, mirror on my dresser Remember that chick Loretta, back in the days I used ta sweat her I wanted to smoke the boots, troop, it didn't matter She was kickin it to my man Stan who's livin phatter than me, hops, chillin in my hoodie and my Reebok's Now she's in a jam cos, Stan was slangin rocks, but look at me now, honey, cos this the morning after I'm yapper, a nappy-headed undaground rappa Word to mom dukes, she was suits so I took her to my show Just to show my niggas that the hooker was..... Chorus Verse Four: Skoob Ah the show was phat, now it's back to the room, G Yo mirror, this is where Loretta tried to do me My neck was on her tongue, *?Ep's?* was gettin swung Krayz was gettin biz with the friend that she brung Then she took it upon herself to let me know she's in the mood-a Then she licked her boot-a, oh shoot-a, I screwed her I showed her, I rolled her, from here to North Dakota I gangbanged the boots like a Brooklyn troop oughta I stuck it in her [BACKWARDS], bust a nut, she was starvin So I pushed in the bush til those lips started partin, but she was....... Chorus to fade |
|||||
|
|
4:31 |
|
||
|
from Das Efx - Dead Serious (1992)
Intro/Chorus:
"Now I'm gonna show you how the East Coast rocks" > KRS One "Baby baby baby baby clap to this" "It's like that y'all you don't stop" *repeat x2* "Now I'm gonna show you how the East Coast rocks" "??? are jumpin out of shoes and socks" Verse One: Dray Books Higgity hey hun check out the way I friggity freak the track umm I diggity do ray me fah so nigga me go like that umm wit the Books, iggity-oops, I get more poopcrocks for jingle I giggity-gots the rhymes like ??? ??? got the wrinkle Check the real wild, my ill style gets worked out like Bundy I piggity-pack the skits, so save the shit, I'll take you *?mundy?* Yes it's I, the yippity zippity bad boy with papers I higgity-hump and rump cos I'm rough like sandpaper So pucker up and whistle, I blast just like a pistol and sharp like a thumbtack and kick like ninjitsu I sling raps for hand claps and toe taps, I'm bound, silly creep I leave a rapper with a single bound Yes I rips up the West, I'm the best, I'm no jokin I run up shit creek and freak the backstroke So Books freak it, provide the funk alligator Yo I'm out but "I'LL BE BACK" like Schwarzenegger Wiggity-wait a minute, giggity-guess who, well it's, umm, me The bumble B boogity woogity book the loopy double O-K-iggity S, I'm slick I giggity-got more stiggity-styles than Moby got Dick Aw shit, I'm swingin it from the East Coast, sure I don't surf, but got more props than Pop Smurf Who? Me, yep, look at the way I'm slingin it to ya poppy I riggity rock the crowd at the Grand Ole Opi But when speakin upon myself, I stays private like Benjamin Honey, I'll knock the boots and if you're tough I'll knock the Timberland's Ooooooh, miggity-major Rolex and tick tock I'm runnin my tongue with the quickness now I'm back like Alfred Hitchcock I'm shod-dy, I'm swingin it like a San Diego Padre Brooklyn's in the house so motherfuck *?we go swavy?* I don't need to diss ya but excuse me Mister I'm sinkin ya battleships just ask Professor or the Skipper and downnnnnnnn Chorus Interlude: (*Das EFX giving shoutouts to other East Coast rappers*) Verse Two: Dray, Books Yo I'm back, black, heavens-to-Betsy, time to get deuce I take a bite outta crime, wash it down with some juice I'm not the new kids, but I'm knockin blocks off, sonny Yep I rock like the Stones cos I'm rollin in the money So diggity-ask about, I know you digs me like a shovel I kick straps for sport cos I'm short like Barney Rubble Check the slang, boogity-bang, umm, I goes berserk when I flex like Popeye, I fight like Cap' Kirk So bozo, I'm knockin em out the box by the pair-em High strung, my tongue got moves like Fred Astaire Tally racker, I'm dapper, the rootin tootin rapper I diggity-drops the funk so you can call me yippity-yapper The slippery slick sister, stiggity-start the grammar I'm comin like the Red Coats to toast an MC Hammer So jumpin jahosa, that's yesiree The Books-in-reverse kicks a verse...... ......like, aah, BBD I whips it, I smacks it, I flips it with slick shit, when shit hits the fan, man, I slaps lips like lipstick, I'm harder than a hard-on, never tend up like fiddles I bust foots for kicks, eat up Trix and some Skittles then I'll giggle, hee-hee-ha Higgity-Hallelujah to-to-dabber-day I'll do ya I'm the baddest, got more fans than Red Jarvis makes a cowboy I skip, flip back to Dallas He's the Don, have you seen my grey poupon? Bust this, we roll more spliffs than Cheech and Chong We can do this, I kiggity-can't lose like Martha Lewis Get the picture? I rock upon misfa if I was you-is Goddamn, I'm sittin on the bay by the dock Smokin, strokin on my big fat cock Cos spare you, breaker 1-9, what's ya handle? Cos now I got the siggity-sock soup like Campbell's and downnnnnnnnnnnn Chorus: (x8) "Now I'm gonna show you how the East Coast rocks" ---> KRS-One "Baby, baby, baby, baby, clap to this" "It's like that y'all, you don't stop" |
|||||
|
|
4:04 |
|
||
|
from Das Efx - Dead Serious (1992)
"And it go a little something like this" "Hit it!"
Verse One: Books Shiggity shoz bots hots I rocks I kiggity kicks the drama like a farmer picks the crops Hops I diggity digs more wigs than John The Baptist They call me Mr. Rapper so I guess I be the rappist No practice yo Krayzie (Diggity yes?) knocker Don't bolo like Han Solo come work like Chewbacca So ease back slick or get kicked in the tush Yep I call ya Snaggle if your puss- Ee gads, I rip shop, until the roof fell in and plus I piggity-pop your shit like *?Jugglo Ellen?* But umm, rarely does my crew get into beefus I fliggity-flips the mould like the gold that's on my cheebas Oh Jesus, I'm the youngest, Flipsy be the eldest I'm hipper than the hip bone connected to your pelvis So hickory dickory dock, diggity-don't your wish Hook: "If only it sounded like this" ".....like this" *repeat x2* "like, this" "like, this" "If only it sounded like this" ".......like this" "If only it sounded like this" ".......like this" *scratching of "like this"* Verse Two: Dray Shibbity-bop, shibbity-boo, check out the way I drops the scoop I'm kniggity-knockin butts out, daily, troop I friggity-fry the funk that's why they call me Krazyie Drayzie I giggity-gots more props than that kid named Beatle Bailey The boogity-woogity Brooklyn boy, he's cool like Grizzly ruin I swingity-swing more shit than Tarzan be doin I heard that shit was thick that's why I spick like I was span then I umm, flip my bit and take a dip like A-qua-man So, umm, figgity-fee-fi-fo-fum, I smell blunts I gibbity-got lines like Evil Knievel got bitch stunts Ya dunce, I'm diggity-down with The Hit Squad, aight I flippity-fly more heads than Benjamin flew kites so I, stiggity-start the spliffin, give me your lips so I can rock I got more skills than John Han got cock So hickory dickory dock, diggity don't you wish...... Hook: "If only it sounded like this" ".....like this" *repeat x2* "like, this" "like, this" "If only it sounded like this" ".......like this" "If only it sounded like this" ".......like this" "If only it sounded like this" ".......like this" "If only it sounded like this" ".......like this" *scratching of "like this"* Verse Three: Skoob, Dray And a way we go, priggity-praise the Lord, Our Father I kiggity-caught The Love Boat, ???? ???? I'm finnicky like the cap' but shoots more funk than Funkadelic It's diggity-Das EFX umm, chum, can you smell it? Yippity-yapper doozy, watch me ease on down the road, hun So come on, baby, and do the loco-motion Umm, so now what the fuck? I give em a sugar smack then they crack like Daffy Duck Schmuck, I'm kniggity-knarly, dude, hey swick em I biggity-bangs the chunks cos they plumps when I cook em I quiggity-quick-quick, diggity-dick-dick, tiggity-tick-tack-toe So figado, figado, figado, figa-do I'm niggity-not the herb but look at the burb, it's gonna stunt I figgity-funk up Sanford, and his fuckin Son So hickory dickory dock, diggity don't you wish Hook to fade |
|||||
|
|
4:04 |
|
||
|
from Das Efx - Dead Serious (1992)
Intro/Chorus: (x4)
"The kids from Brooklyn to T Neck" "Y'knowI'msayin?" "Brooklyn's prime time" Verse One: Skoob Dray Now ain't this some old shit I'm bringin it round the back like no question I'm swingin em with the cranes and I'm swayz like the Jetsons I wreck shit I biggity blast off duke I'm hectic Just look at the funk that I brung from the young and the restless Don't test this I'm miggity makin yens in Japan Diggity-don't give a fuck cos I rap like Saran or antipersperant, I riggity-roll my punctures like a speed stick I giggity-got the pops so kniggity-knock when you need it So freak it, I speak it, I giggity-gots ta bring it We're freakin a track for Jersey, yo Krazyie spring it Speak of the devil, figgity-fuck the dumb shit, it's over soldier, I riggity-roll just like a bulldozer I'm kniggity-knockin butts and smokin blunts that's my slogan Check it, I wriggity-wreck more heads than Hulk Hogan No jokin, I be's the, um, best at how I'm speakin I riggity-rock a show and pack em in like Puerto Ricans I'm phat, I biggity-bang heads like Jerry Cooney I'm swingin the shit from West, pump her up to the booty Buster, I miggity-musta stunned ya, blunder You blewa, I speak it, I freak it, I'm super, so do a..... Chorus (x4) Verse Two: Skoob, Dray Biggity-bang boomer, biggity-bust the lunatic rhymer I riggity-rings more bells than Flo from Mel's Diner I'm giggity-gettin props because of the rhymes that I be bustin I'm sorry about, the condoms, sugar, you must provide the suction, cuz I got more greenbacks than the land of the West got sea stacks Simplest, I'll call you Snaggle if you puss-sy gab, so Look at me flippin the tongue, bringin the fun, pass the Hoover I'm swingity-swingin the funk, bangin her trunks in Bermuda I dribbity-drop rungs, smoke blunts then drop my dipper I piggity-pass the miggity-microphone to my nigga Hot damn, higgity-here I am, check it Mister I'm rippin the track to dreads or you're dead from my fists of fury, I biggity-be's the damn judge and jury I'm cliggity-clockin G's cos these chumps always bore me Yo baby, I drippity-drops nuff grammar I'm rippity-rippin shop wit my nigga Boogie Banger I got loot, I got knock boots to Argentina Ya stupid, I either wanna Benz or a beamer So take that, I'm piggity-puttin your pipe when I'm smokin Y'know kid, I ripped it for fun, no jokin, cos ya..... Chorus (x4) Verse Three: Skoob, Dray Well I'll be damned, higgity-here I am, check the slang, hops I biggity-bump chicks wit them chicks from here to Bangkok You're Bedrock, now piggity-pass the blunt, sonny and let me piggity-pucker up and grab my nuts like Al Bundy I glassed em, I grits em, I shiggity-shoots my jizzum I giigity-gots more loot than your tooth got the wisdom Believe dat, I'm criggity-crackin skulls when I'm rowdy I biggity-bang boots and hang loose like Jim Growlski I miggity-makes em rock like Mr.Gillespie makes em dizzy I piggity-pass the mic now, yo Krayzie get busy Shit's thick, I'm quick to stick a chick wit my dick like a sniper Type o, fella that's hyper active, captive, plus I'm attractive Horse for the course, suck my drawers then I'm back, kid Styley, rowdy, then yo I'm audi 5 wit my loot, got more troops than in Saudi Arabia, maybe I, marry me an actress Find her, phone her, bone her on the mattress Tasket, tisket, Polly wanna biscuit Figgity-fuck the cracker, I'm the rapper that rip it, cos yo....... Chorus to fade |
|||||
|
|
4:09 |
|
||
|
from Das Efx - Dead Serious (1992)
Verse One: Dray
Well uhh ???? is macaroni and cheese Before I start I gots ta umm fart no I gots ta uhh sneeze not I gotcha trippin yippity doo da day Shucks I'm makin bucks so umm hip hip hooray and then some Cos I'm a powsy wowsy ace boom coon so shout "Wa bap a loo ba bawa bam boom!" Drayx up for sure dang now that I'm flexed My a EFX'll quote when the bridge fell down and I'ma good ship with the lollipop Left town so yiggity-yack, you booga-loo black Oki doki, oopsy Daisy, cos I'm Krayzie like that But it's the cat got snuffed, or Mr.Red and his crew so roll a spliff and rub-a-dub and then ya make beef stew Troop, I got the hoolahoop, baby woop, dooby-doo Lassie boy, you made a mess, now go and get the pooper scoop Oops, I wibble-wobble-wobble-wee while I make but hocus-pocus and yippy-yi-yo, yay for Dray and...... Hook: "Klap your hands now" (x3) Verse Two: Skoob Bon voyage, look out below cos umm I got my socks on, the popcorn, the Hubba Bubba, yep gum Skippity bum, you think I don't know the time Well it's half-past a cow's ass and I'm a real bad ass Yeah, shitty-bang-boom-bang, yo who rang? Abra-cadabra, jimminy crickets, set the wrists to my slang I got the knights all sniffin, sneezing, yes Stuffy-head, called for ???? and fever, sow you to rest Tight rhymes, ???? catch the fever for the flavor of a spliff or a Uzi, be careful who you choose, could choose a Marvin, choose a ship Lickity split, cos flippity-lips can sink ships And yo, a sandwich isn't a snadwich without the miracle whip in the morning, yawning as I stand for group check To back up, I slap up, r-r-rut put you're boo deck Yep, so what the heck, you gives rhymes like a cheque Because the A is for apple, the J is for 'ja back to book bets' and then S-K-double O-Be on *?mansel?* So if ya happy and ya know it, klap your hands Hook (x3) Verse Three: Dray Well uhh, woopty doody, abba doozy, it's time I'm on the yabber dabber, scribber scrabber, shimmy sham flam So, heavens-to-Betsy, golly wolly, gee whiz My lickity split got splat, the diddly squat was hot Oh yeah, dapper doodly do, you don't know Mr. Magoo? You heard I'm loco, well yo, I'm despicable too So umm, hi ho Silver and away we go The Lone Ranger got pissed and shot Tonto in his toes, so holy toledo, cowabunga, what gives I heard you shot my borough til *?blow at twins?* The name farmer's up in me, need no give me no more cos that soul lock ya stands, I can't stands no more So zippity doo, da day, woops I gots stuff See I'm sneaky freaky peaky plus I'm chock full of nuts But yo I am enjoyed for the clamp in his chest So hey, how much wood could a woodchuck chuck? If a woodchuck could chuck, fuck you know the rest So seizin it, seizin it, seizin it I shall Cos it's the Krayzie Drayzie wit the Books, that's my pal and...... Hook (x3) Verse Four: Skoob A diggity-cap, my slipp'ry style is ???? ???? I got the mics, the back pop, crackle and snap and all that, me and a gang of PING PING bang zoomer To freak ya outcha sneakers and knock your granny outta roomers Yo some say I'm Brooklyn bomber, some say Brooklyn boop but don't consider me as no follower, no runner or no poop But just rock, a by, rock, a by booboo Let your fingers do the walkin, hey I'm talkin, yoohoo Can ya, can ya hear me? Checka, checka 1-2 Aiyo, sit Booboo sit, shit cos I'm the one who kick a rhyme in singular, so son, you're used to it Cos Poof the Magic Dragon, I'll kick a rhyme in duplicate or triplicate, can't forget my boogaloo big jaw Umm, listen everyone as I kick the jigsaw M-I-crooked letter, crooked letter, I crooked letter, crooked letter, I hump back hump back, I, you can't touch I cos I's gots dem and dem is bound to make ya...... Hook to fade |
|||||
|
|
3:23 |
|
||
|
from Das Efx - Dead Serious (1992)
[Dray]
Comin straight from the sewer I biggity be's the rough slang slinger Singer dame look at me swing it like a swinger I riggity rock the miggity microphone I'm goin to rock it Don't jock it I'm quiggity quick quick thiggity thick yo drop it I'm flippin the flap so check out the rap skills ill ain't it? I friggity fry the funk so give me your tracks so I can train it or drain it like Draino *?this mako?*, cos I'm a rhymer, I stiggity-stun the *?cuns like angina?* Singin the soft drink, ya did finger or leg lock Huh-tutz, spit, can I rock? The finger-lickin, criggity-crispy chicken Spiggity-spark the biggity-blunt style is what I'm kickin So next up, I kiggity-call my nigga wit the slang The iggity-ill paprika, yo speaker....... [Skoob] Hot diggity-damn, yiggity-yes I'm griggity-grand slammin like a homer Simpson, look at the microphoner on a mission, mission completed, dude, I'm kickin flavor with my nigga, oh shit! My nigga from Jamaica Crack a 40, I smiggity-smoke nuff blunts that orgy Bringin funk from Crown Heights straight to Californi I-A, B, see me on the free style, chill more props than Benny Hill, umm Well I'll be god damned, they bringin me in the master mix The nappy head, go betcha dog, question mark, asterisk I flip up, bang, knock a baby out your ???? The figgity-funk, triple packs an Uzi in my zip-up Remember the time I ripped it, smacked it, flipped it You're figurin I was a tip, tip so I kicked it Hook: Straight from the sewer, straight from the sewer "Noth-nothin can save ya" *repeat x3* [Dray] Comin straight from the sewer, the young, flippin-the-toungue superstarer I freakin the flow like there ain't no tomorrow I'm horri-fyin, kid, I be wreckin shiggity-shop, when I rock there's no half-steppin So give me the mic check, get respect, dude I'm narly I betcha if I was Ken then I'd be fuckin Barbie So shiggity bop boo, aiyo Duke can I give a shiggity-shout to my nigga O and the jibber jabber, you're riggity-raw when I'm kickin I'm flippin the tongue so figgity-fee-fi-fo-fum, no slippin I'm wicked, wild, bringin the style when I blabber I swing it for Das EFX, when I flex I won't stagger or stutter, I wriggity-wreck it quick with my crew So light, camera, action...... [Skoob] Tiggity-take two, umm, roll on, chiggity-check the flow, umm I'm swingin it like my nuts be swingin from my scrotum Oh shooter, I'm bringin the power move left, G >From the sewer, test the microphone, 1-2 uhh The nigga, the jibbity-jibber jabber jaw, blippity-blapper rapper Tiggity-tap a livin in the lapper The ghetto, leakin the nigga' petrol as I let go My verbs with the *?lecko?* from Bismore to Plepto The umm, boogity woogity Books can make ya clock turn I riggity-rocks the spot just like my cock butts burn I friggity-freaks the ill rap, I'm still strapped, don't test me I pops shit, pop tarts and piggity-pop cherries Correct, G, my style is fat so I swung it Want it? The riggity-roughneck Brooklyn nigga brung it Hook (x1 1/2) |
|||||
 |
|
1:08 |
|
||
|
from Das Efx - Hold It Down (1999)
Raise the dead, protect your soul
Now it?s time for rock and roll |
|||||
|
|
4:04 |
|
||
|
from Das Efx - Hold It Down (1999)
Intro/Chorus:
No diggedy - can I kick a rhyme for your mind? No diggedy - do we bring it real e'rytime? No diggedy - can I kick a rhyme for your mind? No diggedy - Das EFX we rip it e'rytime *repeat* Verse 1: Dray, Books Yo yo Well biggity back from the gutter, ya beat the butter flow comin at'cha Check the rapture that I miggity manufacture Body snatcher, here to throw the pitch again Gotta switch again because we back up in this bitch again (No doubt) We roll like Michelin, the rapper's know the pedigree Flowin steadily, yo Boogie Banger rizzy ready G? I'm miggity made of snakes-n-snails and rock Wally tails jiggity joined by the balls in case all else fails Higgity hails from the land of gunsling and I tell ya one thing diggity Das EFX we run things, hunting down hardcore clowns and love singers and I got more styles than Brooklyn got drug slingers (word up!) Police oppress me, MC's wanna stiggity stress me Tickity talkin more trash than a Hefty Heaven-to-Betsy when Dray spark the sess, we left you faggot MC's marked for death Chorus Verse 2: Dray, Books I line up rappers then I drop em like they're dominos (No diggedy!) And naybody from their poppa to their momma knows (No diggedy!) We got the flows to get ya hyper, plug up the mic-uh phiggity-phone and then it's on because I'm just the type-uh And ain't no diggedy, I flow until infinity, you must be kiddin me ain't niggity nuttin gettin rid of me Big up to PMD, forever gettin blunted Flooded in the triple black Benz 500 I riggity rap like Saram from here to Pakistan Me and my man came to kick styles out the can Fridge you with the flow, yo it's the big chill Ship all pounds plus stack my grants in a hill So you better set the *?backra?* or ya head'll splat I smiggity smoked the pot that called the kettle black Provoke and get your jiggity jaw broke B-K-L-Y-N we no joke! Chorus Verse 3: Dray, Books Well yo the 1 is for them suckers, the 2 is for my shortys the 3 is for my knuckers puffin els and crackin 40's Diggy Das EFX you know the text we never slackin We back and fliggity flex a nigga, check the rappin Niggas be actin shady!!!! so I got eyes behind my back and I biggity black the 80 Yo we crazy as they come smokin blunts by the carton Beg your pardon but MC's is a pain like ???? Sharpen up your skills, it's on the real to break em down My sound is strictly hardcore underground Chorus x1 1/2 |
|||||
|
|
3:25 |
|
||
|
from Das Efx - Hold It Down (1999)
Intro/Chorus:
No diggedy - can I kick a rhyme for your mind? No diggedy - do we bring it real e'rytime? No diggedy - can I kick a rhyme for your mind? No diggedy - Das EFX we rip it e'rytime *repeat* Verse 1: Dray, Books Yo yo Well biggity back from the gutter, ya beat the butter flow comin at'cha Check the rapture that I miggity manufacture Body snatcher, here to throw the pitch again Gotta switch again because we back up in this bitch again (No doubt) We roll like Michelin, the rapper's know the pedigree Flowin steadily, yo Boogie Banger rizzy ready G? I'm miggity made of snakes-n-snails and rock Wally tails jiggity joined by the balls in case all else fails Higgity hails from the land of gunsling and I tell ya one thing diggity Das EFX we run things, hunting down hardcore clowns and love singers and I got more styles than Brooklyn got drug slingers (word up!) Police oppress me, MC's want to stiggity stress me Tickity talkin more trash than a Hefty Heaven-to-Betsy when Dray spark the sess, we left you faggot MC's marked for death Chorus Verse 2: Dray, Books I line up rappers then I drop em like they're dominos (No diggedy!) And naybody from their poppa to their momma knows (No diggedy!) We got the flows to get ya hyper, plug up the mic-uh phiggity-phone and then it's on because I'm just the type-uh And ain't no diggedy, I flow until infinity, you must be kiddin me ain't niggity nuttin gettin rid of me Big up to PMD, forever gettin blunted Flooded in the triple black Benz 500 I riggity rap like Saram from here to Pakistan Me and my man came to kick styles out the can Fridge you with the flow, yo it's the big chill Ship all pounds plus stack my grants in a hill So you better set the *?backra?* or ya head'll splat I smiggity smoked the pot that called the kettle black Provoke and get your jiggity jaw broke be |
|||||
|
|
4:05 |
|
||
|
from Das Efx - Hold It Down (1999)
Yo it's the slick, rugged dick, tripe nigga from the heights again
I'm gettin' nice again, enter pussies like mice and men So why pretend to be something that you aint you got me laughin to tha fuckin bank and plus I'll do ya something stank (nigga) I'm bad to the bone, gnaws on the gristle puttin the squeeze on niggas, so (what?) fuck mr. whipple if ya nibble on my ear, baby girl, it might tickle I drink Old E like Fred D drink the ripple Word ta God, niggas wanna play hard rock for doses, that shit got to go, i cock back, shot the flow, CAUGHT! now hook 'em to the respirator drip, the shit bag to his hip while he vision in tha escalator now play tha humble in the tunnel with the bright light at tha end of it, word is born time ta end this shit <chorus> here we go here we go yo, time ta get dough that's how it is yo, that's how it go x3 Guess who's next up ta flex, no need ta introduce we holdin down tha spot just like tha pimps do on the 40 deuce so here's the story, kid ya bore me, don't ignore me you gettin kills in my territory You think you're clever sun, but you never sun gonna get a chance ta fuckin con me like edison i think ya better run cause i'm comin atcha and what the fuck ya gonna do when i catch ya ya liddle bastid you'll get that ass kicked, when i blast it your gonna end up in a fuckin casket, i kicks tha mad shit i come ta show tha flow you're fuckin with a pro but i guess by now ya know, so <chorus x3> well now i gotcha niggas stumblin', i see ya fumblin, kill tha mumblin cause when i'm on tha track i'm never wack when i be rumblin' like this, like that, i'm fatter than the fattest, niggas wish they had this, they know my style's the fuckin baddes', you got tha status, but yo you're just a pussy, i'll fuck your girl i'll make her do that watussi you need protection when in my section, for the injection, another one in my fuckin collection I blast off like a rocket, so don't knock it, till ya try it, i come deep like a riot, ya can't deny it, i keep it on lock, a forty and blunt ma'fucka and ya don't stop i'm on tha scene with tha nicotine puffa, i gut ya clean ta make your fuckin spleen rupture, nice with the ways since the days ask niggas, i know a lot of rap figures and pushin' crack niggas perhaps wack niggas need ta play tha back step i got styles for days, but styles aint even hatch yet hate me, but never violate me used to smoke a pound a week but i been gettin higher lately rhyme sayers need prayers cause snipers gettin hot when you make tha sign of the cross X marks tha spot L clips to my lips with my niggas to my side 3-80 sesh in the 3-25 oops i'm at the eight now, beast think I push more rock than mr slate, i'm fat like ricki lake, here we go. |
|||||
|
|
4:10 |
|
||
|
from Das Efx - Hold It Down (1999)
Well on your marks and get set And cant forget to go Incase you didn't know the flow if fat like joe(like joe) Yo..you niggedy know that im back man Your wack man/i eat a nigga like i'm pacman I biggedy bring it/straight form the cella For reala packin more hits than lou pinella I swella/nigga in his eye if he tess me You dont impress me Ey yo books bring the rest g... Uhh..one time for yo mind Eh yo what up its.. The crew thats bringin ruckus no doubt We the ruffest dream team Reign supreme like a cutlass Get duckets the dough Cant touch the flow It's me the nigga wit g'z The b double o k-s On top that i'll bus your caliber When i pop shit and rock shit like metallica Straight to the heart of them street fake niggas Your all up in my face/wanna sell my tape niggas So honey shake your figures and show me whatcha got (blow the spot)das efx wit the real hip hop Chorus To the hiddip the hop it don't stop(don't stop) Das efx wit the real hip hop(hip hop) To the hiddip the hop it don't quit(don't quit) Das efx and we came to rip shit(rip shit) Eh okiedokie Next nigga ta quote me I hope he got more miracles than smokey Wont be no discussion/strictly bumrushin Head rushin like gotti Your in my dangerfield like rodney So howdy/let me introduce for my peeps Straight from the sewer Sayin true to the streets Well it's me crazy drazy Bringin up the rear I swear/we got to hold it down here yeah So there..let me crack a brew and kick my feet up Turn the heat up And smiggedy smoke all the weed up Kids i beat up/wit my style thats the newest My crew is/runnin more ruckus than carl lewis It's from the sewer now ya see me on tha top So stop and recognizt the niggas on ya block Chorus Yo mc's is irrelevant And delicate to the texture And this style of mines is well defined like webster Aint a better nigga raw from the jaw jabber-jibber When i get stone like sharon from sliver Equppied ta/riggedy rip the microphone to shreds Dread yo come and hit these niggas in the head... Well i connect my rhymes like lego So lego my eggo, i burn ya like waco You need more than maaco I take it to ya crew and keep em moving like im uhaul Im here to school yall Figgedy faggots like rupaul I throw a screwball and strike out the mc And if he temps me I knock em out like jack dempsey I burn some sensi and chase em wit the guiness The illest..hit me wit the hook because i'm finished Chorus |
|||||
|
|
4:59 |
|
||
|
from Das Efx - Hold It Down (1999)
Yeah, here it is
do it like this comin' from the sewer yeah you know we never miss.. here it is back up in the scene, here to make the green and niggaz out there know just what I mean I ride the beat like a jockey, short and stocky never sloppy the honeys wanna clock and knock me It don't shock me, I see it all the time, get a little fame and now a nigga look as fine as wine I know the game because I study me and my buddy ain't nuttin funny niggaz know the sewer style is nutty give me the money cuz I'm tryin to make a million rollin with my clique and yo we dick like a Sicilian bringing the drama for the masses whippin niggaz asses, so get ya glasses time for classes I take my chances, I gots to go for broke so knocka don't provoke, just chill and roll a smoke, It aint no joke I know you recognize the sound, It's diggety DAS EFX and this is how we gettin down here it is...etc. Dollar dollar dollar place your bets across the table one mo' time cuz its show time without the cable holdin down the spot and any wack penetrators is fallin to the flames of my rap incinerators I'm afraid I got some bad news for crews by the twos son it's hard like booze so don't snooze I'm throwin jabs, hooks and uppercuts to your face yeah, hittin you with the perfect combination like Stacie, that is sure I be the jibber jabber jour I'm gettin perilous the skunk derelict ghetto lyrical specialist say yes its thick the restless clique from PMD to fool with the Lexus whip now true indeed a few MC's they just don't know what they doin cuz when I smoke the blunt, nigga, they just had the blunt canoein' so yo, now I gotta dis cause niggaz piss me off the way that y'all be rhymin if you want like Doggie Diamond Here it is... Crazy Trazy, holding down the block I riggedy rock the miggedy microphone nonstop, you bitin rappaz better exit cause when I flex it you won't neglect it cuz when you least expect it kid I wreck shit bring it from the sewer miggedy mic check can't forget the one two-a the incredible man of the season here's the reason its the rhymes I'm releasing It aint no joke that's how we do it nowadays bring it from the sewer wreck shit and then we sways another dat another buck-fuck what nigger please I'm overdue wit these foes niggaz I'm bustin out ya toes to get ya dancin son I even got my crew makin hits like Charles Manson kids nappin, can't forget the ransom. I'm not so handsome so when I pickup my pen my temper tantrum overcome it like voodoo, and I'm rougher than bruise you sharp like cold crystal yo my niggaz told istal? I don't eat the beef pork or the goat tissue black I blast a missile penetratin through ya radar hey star ya style's horrible like fuckin Haggar hip hip hooray-K A the eye swella the one who be hittin the bitches blue black to high yella It's the boogie banga better yet the banger of the boogie A black Champion like my hoodie Here it is.... |
|||||
|
|
4:31 |
|
||
| from Das Efx - Hold It Down (1999) | |||||
|
|
3:18 |
|
||
| from Das Efx - Hold It Down (1999) | |||||
|
|
3:14 |
|
||
|
from Das Efx - Hold It Down (1999)
Skoob and dray giving shoutouts*
Chorus: Well give a buck-buck (here) And a buck-buck (there) From the front to the (rear) Throw your hands (in the air) *repeat x3* Verse 1: skoob Ding! back in the ring yo it's the tag team jams (yeah yeah yeah) So all rise for the honours balk, your lies mark your drum Now I'm stronger and I'm faster, thicker than your pasta I got more styles than most mc's can master I'm (what? ) d-wilin, (what? ) three stylin (what what? ? ) regardless Beatin me is like the bills beatin dallas Keep them shorts fro the midgets, there! I be the shit, it And plus I light that ass up like the numerical digits In my (beeper), cos we're throwin niggas in the (sleeper) I'm dazin you like (etha), more hoodies than the (grim reaper) Be on you everywhere, my style it ain't the everyday It's better, we're sayin shit that other niggas never say (kid) Cookin the flows (what? ) to make your toes wanna tip (tip) I used to be a wheel watcher til I got my whip (whip) You see I walk with a (bop bop), I talk with the (slop slop) Man, you like six bull balls in a slot (slot slot) It's the abortion, son I'm launchin, quick to floor shit Click-click now I'm on some quick draw mcgraw shit For shit, now dice bring it back on the seal Alright we get the busters, smoke blunts out the mill (yeah) Chrous: So get the buck-buck (here) And the buck-buck (there) From the front to the (rear) Throw your hands in the (air air) With a buck-buck (here here) And a buck-buck (buck here) From the front to the (rear) Throw your hands (in the air) With a buck-buck (here) And a buck-buck (there there) From the front to the (yeah rear) Throw your hands (in the air) With a buck-buck (here here) And a buck-buck (there there give em) Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah (from the rear, throw your hands in the air, yeah) Verse 2: dray Well yo, the one is for my nuts (uhh), the two is for my penis (penis) You see I can rock this microphone (yeah) from here to fuckin venus Boy, I mean this, you've never seen this because you're corny (corny) I'm sleepin on ya raps, I'm drinkin (yeah) nass because you're foamy Wit that weak shit, I freak shit like I'm suppose ta (yeah) Try to test my skills, word is bond (motherfucker), I'm gonna roast ya (yeah) I do this, they be like who dis? (who dis? ), I break the answer (answer) Krazy fuckin drayzie on the mic (yeah), I spread like (cancer) So peep it (yeah) cos i'ma keep it straighter than an arrow Niggas on my jive (why? ) because I rock like a camaro Back to rip the tribes so pack your vest, so check the flow (flow) Some niggas wanna copy but they're soppy like joe (yo) joe (yo) How I rip the shows on the mic (nightly) Tell y'all niggas now there ain't a motherfucker like me! (ya hype be), I'm slightly in the mood so watch me wreck shit (yeah) Check shit, I be on some new improved (neck shit) I flex shit, that's the way I flip it on a angle You knows who I are, wear my star like the spangled Banner, bust the grammar but I bring forth my knockers If it ain't hip-hop (aiyyo) Well then it gotta be some rockin (bow! bow! bow!) I'm risin in your ? ? ? ? and corn flakes, you're gonna lose me (lose me) And if ya didn't know, one more here (this is why my nigga choose me) Chorus: So give a buck-buck And a buck-buck there From the front to the (rear) Throw your hands (in the air) With a buck-buck (here) And a buck-buck (there) From the front to the (rear) Throw your hands in the air *repeat to fade* |
|||||
|
|
0:9 |
|
||
|
from Das Efx - Hold It Down (1999)
Raise the dead, protect your soul
Now it?s time for rock and roll |
|||||
|
|
5:33 |
|
||
| from Das Efx - Hold It Down (1999) | |||||
|
|
4:25 |
|
||
|
from Das Efx - Hold It Down (1999)
Intro:
*alright* (x16) No doubt Aha, see what you want baby? Check it out! one-two for my peeps like this, check it out Verse 1: skoob To the, aah, tick tick, my clique is mad thick so don't slip (yeah) Cos mad nigga's throats gettin slit By the mister wit the heat ta burn ya til ya blister You punk bitch, when the funk hit, the tongue twister (yeah) It's the...now I'm the maniac with the flow (what? ) ? ? ? ? Til I knock out your regulars and your gold teeth (nigga) Be doin my thing on a day-to-day (ha ha) Some say I got too much posse like flavor flav Books in reverse, the worst nigga out the clique (what? ) Ci-lo satan when I hit you with the triple 6 Your shit be stressin it's lessin, I'm flexin with the adjectives Shittin on mc's like I just took a laxative Now niggas know I gives a f**k about'cha crew You try to keep up but got stuck like the two Between nevers and atlantis, I kicks a frantic And goddamn it, watch me and my man rock the planet Like this, boy! Hook: *alright* (x8) Verse 2: dray Well uhh, one-two, comin thru next Nigga krazy drayzie representin das efx Stompin wit my crew comin thru your projects Bring ya from the east so f**k the peace so if you spot us You do us a fave bip, you pull your piece and shot em (baa!!) You're makin dollars overseas (uhh), nigga please (uhh) Squeeze these cos we're gettin paid by the g's wit ease (word up) We're blowin up your f**kin spot (no doubt) Cos when you're hot, you're hot and when you're not, you're not Now everybody be the nicest but jesus christ this It's a crisis, I kill em dead with my devices My advice is you better learn a trade Before you kick a rhyme and end up f**kin gettin sprayed I keep you open like you're f**kin sessin me You're just a pest of me, you'll never get the best of me Cos justa me, the k-to-r-a-z-y Use to rock fila, bettin like I'm eli With houston your style in need of boostin Your crew that need to stomp, no conk, you know you're losin I put my dues in so you know it's only right I gots ta hold it down so all my niggas hold tight (hold tight nigga) Chorus (x14) Verse 3: dray, skoob To the, aah, boom bang, my slang is mad thick My rappin antics'll keep em runnin fran-tic The shit the man kick'll make ya f**kin ass sick I bring you from the pit and never quit cos it's the krazy Poppin all this shit cos his rhymers don't amaze me It pays me to rock it so why not I stop it I make it by the bucket so f**k it, I stock it It's just for safe keepin so when I'm sleepin I sleep safe I'm comin with my timbs in ya face (motherf**ker) Back in the place I'm gettin stupid in ya sector I be the krazy drayzie, nigga check the way I wreck F**kin flow to final, motherf**k the title My nigga dj dice is on the vinyl (motherf**ker) That's my recital, kid I flipped it til the end I bring it from the sewer , here my nigga come again The books in reverse kicks a verse I'm takin it to ya face, I'm iggity on the case I persuit To stomp an mc like grapes and then scrape em with the boot I bring swing to the ring like luke doover Diggity-got land like a cruiser, pop duke he rip a cougar For pages, I kick it raw til my jaw caves in Amazin and plus off-beat like caucasians Me get done? never son, I hold it down for 7-1-a Where niggas f**k around and where niggas lay Ain't nuttin slim, I got game like tim hardaway Fouls like the proudest so I'm labbin in rca Aw shit, I got you buggin, flippin that shit that you lovin Plus I got another back in the oven Some heard the style and then construction on it But they just touching on it, bitch ass niggas ain't got nuttin for it C'mon, broke my blocks or I'll blow ya spot I rock like that bald-headed nigga on fox (so how we do? ) no shorts from niggas or they f**kin girl and (what you Got? ) More styles than the last got served (no doubt) So if you wit me and you're higher than a hippie, hold tight Cos e'rything gon' be aight! (no doubt) Chorus to fade |
|||||
|
|
4:48 |
|
||
|
from Das Efx - Hold It Down (1999)
Yeah yeah, aaah, diggy Das nigga, diggy Das what what??
Yeah what? Intro/Chorus: Got ta hold it down Hold it down, nigga keep it on lock Hold it down, nigga yeah, nigga keep it on lock *repeat x3* Verse 1: Dray, Skoob I be the man droppin the slang on your premises We the menaces, clanging rappers like they're Genesis Now what the hell is this I heard you wanna see this Ya best believe this kid, I got more rhymes than Run got Adidas You can't defeat us so just back up off the metaphor The Boogie Banger tell me what the hell's the art for? Yiggity yeah The sooky-sooky, bringin it from the sewer it's the Boogie Bang Use to kick the rookie slang, critics wonder "Could he hang?" Drop my first joint and made the whole world flip Next trip, critics that wasn't wit it popped lip (like what?) "Nigga eat dat and nigga eat dis" but fuck, nigga need that, get off my nigga, eject Chorus Verse 2: Skoob, Dray *?Miggity mog?* it's the Prince of Darkness here to spark this riggity mic, my target's the underground market I be the rapper and chief, the editor etcetera The miggity mad dred night predator Cos all the time, nigga's be frontin in their rhymes claimin to represent the bastards, missin classes, doin time But when I come thru they be like "Oooh look, the Man!" Shakin niggas down like the earth shook Japan Well all I need is my 40, some Buda and my Timbs my biggity black benz with them 19 inch rims I gotta maintain and at the same time I watch my ass the cash, cos any fuckin day could be your last I took a breather now we snipin off the roof We back up in the booth and gettin busy off the 100 proof of Vodka, I rock a rhyme just for the thrill of it Cos when I'm spillin it I'm fillin it, check how I'm killin it Chorus Verse 3: Dray, Skoob But a'time I write a rhyme I takes some time to make it rougher So suffer, y'know it's me the nicotine puffer I miggity made this for the snitches, cos for the riches we never changing faces like them two singin bitches So hold it down for '95 or youse a goner Big up to all my peoples on corner puffin marijuana I briggity break the dame, we roll the game In '92 wit my crew, ain't a thing changed but the styles, the miles on the jeep, the beamer the drawers on my ass, the erb grass got greener My knocker plus be droppin the skills off the top a the dome for my peoples in the sewer, yo I got ta.... Chorus (x2) Outro: Dray Hold it down, keep it on lock My nigga Mo Bee wit the real hip-hop (Got ta hold it down) Hold it down, keep it on lock Diggity Das EFX wit the real hip-hop Hold it down, keep it on lock The young and the restless, word we don't stop Hold it down, keep it on lock My nigga PMD wit the real hip-hop (Hit Squad) Hold it down, keep it on lock My nigga DJ Scratch wit the real hip-hop Hold it down, keep it on lock |
|||||
|
|
3:46 |
|
||
|
from Das Efx - Hold It Down (1999)
Intro/Chorus:
Dedicated dedicated to all the niggas gettin high Dedicated dedicated to all the bitches actin fly Dedicated dedicated to all the niggas runnin game Dedicated dedicated to all the chicks that do the same Verse 1: Dray, Skoob Yo Well if the honeys think I'm stuck up, I tell em "Shut the fuck up" and you can get'cha man, I bet a grand he gettin broke up So whatta you wanna fuck around and get silly Really? We're on the road again just like Willie Nelson, so what the hell son, no bore ya Anoy ya when I spill the beans like lawyer I saw ya, tried to pick my style, hit the balls I guess you must be ready to die like Biggie Smalls Diggity good heavens, it all started in the projects like the Evans but fuck the Good Times, we packin weapons Want the fortune and the fame kid, you know the name kid, style reign Puttin MC's thru style change And if you want me then you got to come get me I'm strictly fuckin niggas up like 1-50- 1, two rum shots chased precise Two gun shots but it's sheisty, they wanna ice Thinkin I might beat the hurt, I'm not him And I'ma get paid and fool like Rakim Chorus (x2) Verse 2: Dray, Skoob Well here I come, word, yo this be my third release I never let the honeys and the moneys get me geese, peace to the crews payin dues in the background How my rap sound? Yo Boogie Banger bring it back now Niggas with the runnin mile, your time's runnin out I make it happen, niggas slackin, son they dumbin out Actin fly, jack passed me by Mmmah - you can kiss that black ass goodbye No lie, see I fry your crew til they sizzle Fizzle, you know the sewer style is unbizzle Bull take a pull, lift your floor money pack Backs before I put a whoopin on that ass Ya not get the bones, split the el, stuff it well Niggas bullshittin wonder how the fuck it sell Now dig it, me and my man we came wit it We snuffin motherfuckers out the way and like Riddick Admit it, I'm right to rough so tighten up I'm audi for them niggas actin rowdy, lightin blunts, what? Chorus (x4) To all the niggas gettin high Dedicated to all the bitches actin fly Dedicated to all the niggas runnin game Dedicated to all the chicks that do the same Dedicated to all the niggas gettin high To all the bitches actin fly Dedicated to all the niggas who on the game kid Dedicated to all the chicks that do the same *shout outs* |
|||||
|
|
4:35 |
|
||
| from Das Efx - Hold It Down (1999) | |||||
|
|
3:19 |
|
||
| from Das Efx - Hold It Down (1999) | |||||
|
|
3:30 |
|
||
|
from Das Efx - Hold It Down (1999)
Intro/Chorus: Comin thru' wit my crew like this Aah I'm wit my crew like this comin thru Comin thru wit my crew like this Uhh wit my crew like this Comin thru wit my crew like this Boy what? Wit my crew like this Comin thru wit my crew like this Uhh wit my crew like this Verse One: Dray Skoob Well yo it's 1995 this the way my crew troop I be the Krayzie Drayzie come to put'cha on the scoop like to be a rapper nowadays is real handy that's why all these niggas wanna be down like Brandy They huffin 'n' puffin but still ain't sayin nuffin I see dem bluffin, they full of shit like stuffin Uh, without rehearsal my style is universal and I been drinkin St.Ives before dem commercials I puff a el everytime I gotta write again so I can climb the fuckin charts like Spiderman Yo yo, I be the Books but don't confuse me with Scholasis Boy, I'll still sink your head like I was St.John the Baptist Spot-blower especially when I'm not sober Twisted in the head I'm seein red like October Yo, the jibber-jabber, ain't a livin rapper deeper who get looser than the leaves up in my fuckin Flavor like twice so you better rise up Read the off-the-wall styles like ya game of flys up No ruggle, I'm bout to shove anover blunt, where I two-talk, it's New York undercover And I don't have pity, more raps than rap city Got styles out the ass so call my raps shitty Comin thru' Chorus Verse Two: Dray, Skoob I'm bringin it back wit my niggy, it's goin down no diggy I riggity rock the miggity mic and got dreds like Ziggy Marley, don't own a Harley, you're what they call me kickity Krayzie Drayzie on the mic so what you want G? I'm rantin and ravin, still misbehavin See I be causin trouble even since I started shavin This ain't Craig Mack but black you know the flave I briggity break that ass up just like Super Dave I'm kiggity comin with a gangsta like Boo Boo I put it thru you, ya stinkity stink like doo doo Giggity guess who next up on deck for wreck? Shit is on and my palms don't sweat Forty days and nights get in some fights to get this style piece and on before this water mic scored Dat ass tried to slip a fast one by me Claimin to represent the murderers like Johnnie Cochran, but ain't no stoppin when I'm diggity droppin for dump, forgotten, the low down dirty rotten juvenile delinquents cos I still stink wit ghetto flavour distortin my behaviour (Check it out) Tootz, I'm in it for the panties, fuck the Grammys It's the Books, style underground Lounge with the tootz on some ol' major look-type shit and when I come thru I'm wit my crew like this Comin thru Chorus (Comin thru wit my crew like this) Comin thru, what? Blowin up the spot, punk you know we never miss (Comin thru wit my crew like this) (Yeah yeah, I'm wit my crew like this) Uh comin thru *conversation to end* |
|||||
|
|
4:43 |
|
||
|
from Das Efx - Hold It Down (1999)
Intro/Hook (x2)
(*The hardcore rap act is back!*) (*Ha ha, ha ha, now who's rhymin?*) HARDCORE!!! (*The hardcore rap act is back!*) (*No I, no I ain't smilin*) Verse 1: Dray Yo, yo I said it first with the verse to make these niggas wanna act up Smackin up the wack and Solid Scheme they hook the track up So back up or swing or you'll get stung by my stinger Heard that I was rich and now your bitch is on my dinger Then I swing the jungle shit so fuck the humble shit Kid I crumble shit, motherfuckers know I never fumble shit So bring your weapon or keep it steppin or hit the deck-in cos in a second I'ma pull a fuckin Tek-in Start rejectin em, affect em when I kick Y'all niggas think you're slick but y'all can suck my fuckin dick Y'all see me gettin busy wit my man and my DJ Strictly kickin facts and then we max like TJ Cos we play for keeps, my peeps they don't be flakin and if you wanna test well yes your bones is gettin breakin or broken, no jokin, I shoot them *?in them rise?* Fuckin with Das you wind up in hos- -pital, so bust my riddle when I reveal it If niggas wanna play around then stay around and feel it cos yo... Hook (x2) Verse 2: Skoob, Dray Now to my style there is no equal, boy I'm lethal like some tumours My crew be strokin bitches like I used to stroke my pumas wit my toothbrush, see I do just what I wanna I got that from my pops and from some niggas on the corner So you never catch me rappin about no shit like the Government but I be snappin on MC's like your bitch snap on double mega of a shotty and a burner and I keeps the 2 ready to hit you in your chest like Steve Young do Jerry Rice, be nice and stock slice by umbilical Knew that I would be the ill-form freaker of the syllables And son is rugged, you're gonna love it in an instant See I smoke blunts but yo my pops smokes Winstons Well it's the D-A-S, I can't forget the E-a F-a to the X so when I flex y'know I bein a fatter wrecker nigga on the mic with my strategy Kids is mad at me cos they ain't as fuck as bad as me I takes the best of them so fuck the rest of them I couldn't care less for them, I'm too fresh for them I just be wreckin shop and gettin busy, nigga check it Never actin broke cos yo I sold a fuckin record I'm too slick for dat, suck my big dick for that Don't try to trap my rap cos yo I'm too quick for that I got the recipe and yes it's me with my crewin So if you didn't know, well nigga this is how we do it Uhh Hook (x2) Verse 3: Skoob Abara-cadabara, return of the punk MC batterer I'm mad at the system like them niggas up in Attica From more ways and your ways I rip shit like dat Cos there's more ways son, you wanna skin a fuckin cat Yo it's the rootin-tootin-nig'-shoot-to-give nigga with the superdest flow, son you'll get no wins cos I been lurkin in the murky waters of my starvin shark style Ever since the days of the Clarks and the Argyles Quick I rip shit to bits like piranha When I blow up the spot wit more watts than Rolanda and when I come thru I'm hittin you up with the 1-2 Teks, flex raps like Bruce Lee flex the kung-fu Look at my tongue, do it what it feel like, get ill-like that fat nigga my game is all-skirt tight Use to fuck with shorty's wit the jelly playin celly now my name is on your flyers and my tyres ain't Pirrelli wit the chrome dip, so don't flip cos shit's gon' get heated up I'm weeded up, yo Dice I need a cut Bring it! Hook (x2) HARDCORE!!! *repeat* |
|||||
|
|
2:20 |
|
||
|
from Das Efx - Hold It Down (1999)
(*here comes the hit squad, I got some bad news*) (x8)
(skoob) Well it's the boogie banger at your service (service), my crew got niggas Nervous (nervous) Son the word is we on some rule the shit like *? kervis? * (I rule the world) Blow, yo I get dough, la rockafella, nigga please I got more cheese than mozarella kicks it accapella I swella f**k up on some other shit, rougher shit I'ma hold it down and take a puff of this Greenery, keep the scenery, didn't seem to be in order for thee Flip the slaughter, f**k a quarter nigga A second wasted is a dollar lost Peep the rhyme holocaust, servin cocktails by molitor So pmd, ahh, when you ready then you're wilin Pick up the steel and hold it down for strong island (pmd) It's pmd up in the sector, I wreck the microphonin I'm quick to pull a tek and snap that neck and leave ya moanin Kid I'm zonin, it's on and I'm back up on the block (aiyo, we represent the sewer!) son, I represent the dock (dock) Puls I knock (what? ) niggas out the box quickly Kid I'm strictly motherf**kin business so get wit me Yo scratch hit me so I can do my thing and blow the spot (dray) It's that nigga krayzie drayzie come to show you what I got Check the clock if you don't know the f**kin timin Well I'm rhymin, I'm shinin like a motherf**kin diamond Kill the whinin cos I'm in effect like this (yo son we bring it from the sewer) and yo, you know we never miss The hit squad, ya shit's harder every year It's diggity das efx and pmd to make it clear, yeah (what? ) ya catch a bullet in ya gut And if you try to run you catch another one to your butt Hut one two, hut three We riggity rock the miggity microphone as you can see g Uhh, what? ? ? (*here comes the hit squad, I got some bad news*) *repeat to fade* |
|||||
|
|
3:59 |
|
||
|
from Das Efx - Hold It Down (1999)
Well on your marks and get set And cant forget to go Incase you didn't know the flow if fat like joe(like joe) Yo..you niggedy know that im back man Your wack man/i eat a nigga like i'm pacman I biggedy bring it/straight form the cella For reala packin more hits than lou pinella I swella/nigga in his eye if he tess me You dont impress me Ey yo books bring the rest g... Uhh..one time for yo mind Eh yo what up its.. The crew thats bringin ruckus no doubt We the ruffest dream team Reign supreme like a cutlass Get duckets the dough Cant touch the flow It's me the nigga wit g'z The b double o k-s On top that i'll bus your caliber When i pop shit and rock shit like metallica Straight to the heart of them street fake niggas Your all up in my face/wanna sell my tape niggas So honey shake your figures and show me whatcha got (blow the spot)das efx wit the real hip hop Chorus To the hiddip the hop it don't stop(don't stop) Das efx wit the real hip hop(hip hop) To the hiddip the hop it don't quit(don't quit) Das efx and we came to rip shit(rip shit) Eh okiedokie Next nigga ta quote me I hope he got more miracles than smokey Wont be no discussion/strictly bumrushin Head rushin like gotti Your in my dangerfield like rodney So howdy/let me introduce for my peeps Straight from the sewer Sayin true to the streets Well it's me crazy drazy Bringin up the rear I swear/we got to hold it down here yeah So there..let me crack a brew and kick my feet up Turn the heat up And smiggedy smoke all the weed up Kids i beat up/wit my style thats the newest My crew is/runnin more ruckus than carl lewis It's from the sewer now ya see me on tha top So stop and recognizt the niggas on ya block Chorus Yo mc's is irrelevant And delicate to the texture And this style of mines is well defined like webster Aint a better nigga raw from the jaw jabber-jibber When i get stone like sharon from sliver Equppied ta/riggedy rip the microphone to shreds Dread yo come and hit these niggas in the head... Well i connect my rhymes like lego So lego my eggo, i burn ya like waco You need more than maaco I take it to ya crew and keep em moving like im uhaul Im here to school yall Figgedy faggots like rupaul I throw a screwball and strike out the mc And if he temps me I knock em out like jack dempsey I burn some sensi and chase em wit the guiness The illest..hit me wit the hook because i'm finished Chorus |
|||||
 |
|
0:32 |
|
||
|
from Das Efx - Generation Efx (1999)
Raise the dead, protect your soul
Now it?s time for rock and roll |
|||||
|
|
3:03 |
|
||
|
from Das Efx - Generation Efx (1999)
From the floor, keep it raw
Yeah, yo, yo, yo, yo Verse 1: Dray, Skoob I heard that one man's loss, is the next man's gain I came to drop the shit like rain and bring the pain to your brain We leave a stain, ain't prayin (why?), cos the game's for kids It's diggity Das, no doubt, back to shatter your wigs These pegs be all on my back, cats be actin too brave I think they better just relax, before we dig em a grave You blow the spot, baby face it, kids can't erase it or trace it, ya get'cha face lit, Books come lace it, what? Bringin it straight from the lands of the crooks where heat, Books to heat em Keepin em raw from these Brooklyn streets, where Books defeats em Flippin these lines like a polygraph, y'all niggas lolly dat Freakin a style from Brooklyn, the home of the bodybags And kids with no fear, bitches with no hair Low gear Benz's wit chrome wears, what we all here So don't stare, we there to interfere with the heads of ????? What you didn't know, this miggity might hurt Chorus: It's diggy Das, raw breed Make moves at top speed It's the niggas from the sewer Drink brew and puff weed Giggity get wit it Sewer rats stay twisted Many people tell me this style is terrific It's diggy Das, raw breed Make moves at top speed It's the niggas from the sewer Drink brew and puff weed Giggity get wit it Sewer rats stay twisted Aiyo, many people tell me this style is terrific Verse 2: Dray, Skoob Yo Well yo, in Glocks we trust, and at the cops we bust We just be hustlin for cash and makin lashes of muss They went from AZ to Jay-Z, Nas back to Krayzie To Drayzie, I fuck up your knot and then I'm swayze Word, yeah, yo, yo Well yo, figgity fuck a fear, wanna bust like a flare gun, beware, son, my sons keep guns in the air None of y'all bitches can sue me, all my niggas twenty one gun salute me Pick up the vine and rock the Kufi Well, all I heard was Versucci, coochie for the lucci The Gucci, but I just stay raw just like some sushi My crew be ill, time to move these mill's And all the drunken mawfuckers best to show they skills Yeah, yo, yo Well yo, the shit I talk, it be the shit I walk Some faggots try to get wild, they bit my style but got caught Like me and my man caught, slippin up at the crimescene Fuckin lime green, you fuckin wart, this is my team Chorus |
|||||
|
|
4:05 |
|
||
|
from Das Efx - Generation Efx (1999)
No doubt (no doubt), no doubt, ahh
Sewer rats in ya area (feel that) (Worldwide) bout to make things scarier (No doubt) (Diggy Das) Diggy Das (Generation) Yo, yo, yo Intro/Chorus: If iggity-I shine then you shine E'rybody shine, niggity-nuttin but the money on the mind If I shine then you shine E'rybody shine, niggity-nuttin but the money on the mind If I shine then you shine E'rybody shine, niggity-nuttin but the money on the mind If I shine then you shine E'rybody shine, niggity-nuttin but the money on the mind Verse One: Dray Well iggity-ashes to ashes and dust to dust I'm miggity-makin all the money everytime I bust No fuss, fully blown, Benz fully chrome Flips celly phone, Diggy Das, once again it's on It's Dray Boogie, no rookie, a tough cookie Biggity-blow the spot everytime they book me The big boys we're makin big noise Biggity-bubblin and pushin big toys >From the corner to the stage, front page Riggity-rockin the age, dropped the dime, please So give a toast to the host, East Coast West Coast, this here's just a small dose Jump in the square this year, we take the whole pie No lie, the platinum and the gold eye Keep it jumpin, got the beat thumpin, pumpin Yiggity-yes y'all, I know one thing Chorus Verse Two: Skoob Yo, yo I pliggity-play the back like a NFL safety I wiggity-won't let the game break me even though the game's shaky and the player's flaky, they niggity-need someone to boss em Set up my office now e'rybody flossin If niggas is hot, I'm ultraviolet If niggas is fly then I'm the pilot, friggity-frequent flier mileage Cash flowin, over throwin, motor rollin Play the low and keepin niggas not knowin, yo It's like the wind beneath my wing, everything that I sing kid, I'ma bring, so let me do my thing Knock the bastard, smiggity-smack it out the park, right Sewer rats, tiggity-tales from the darkside archive Chorus Verse Three: Dray, Skoob Yo You buy the stocks off some sideblocks and buy Glocks to fight cops Buy spots, niggity-never ever ride jocks Bubblegoose, fat Benz, fat Timbs Fat ends, fat rings, biggity-best scams We got a fool-proof hustle, lotta muscle So miggity-make sure to put the money in the duffle Yo What's miggity-mines is yours and yours is mines If iggity-I shine then you shine, the crew shine You rock the Benz, son, I rock the Range Giggity-got nuttin to lose and e'rything to gain, I'm sayin forget the pain and the struggle, and all the trouble Up in the jungle wit my man now we're seein double Chorus |
|||||
|
|
3:38 |
|
||
|
from Das Efx - Generation Efx (1999)
Intro/chorus:
Somebody told me that this rap shit was fun You get to smoke weed and hold big guns Stand on stage rockin your timbs wit your sons That's bullshit, yo I'm out to get these funds Verse one: 8-off aguilar Yo, yo, somebody told me that threw a hotter joint dies Could he see it? epmd, aguilar, recognise Niggas was stuck on diggy before biggie and nas Test guy reported in the source, even thought about "best buys" My 12-bar count dracula wit lyrics spectacular Sippin out of coke and he's drinkin *? terror dacquras? * and chrome Backwards Challenge any woman, balls nothing, rock the hardest Racoons rap with your soloists if ? ? ? ? ? ? artist Puttin it down on the day 9000, that's a cell with stories to tell Off those cells we're livin well In the '9-8-off, country club plink off While you're way off, check all systems, it's time we take off Chorus (x2) Verse two: nocturnal Guns with banana clips, two rolexes to master whips A .45 under my armpit Another one in the glove compartment Money startin shit, brand new shoes on spank shit Tek 9's, after parties with mad dimes Bitches twist the vine, I'm high and the moon's mine We're out to get mines, on a regular On the south, probably took the dreaded predator's pirate treasure In the crib I bought the leather, plus a movie screen So my team can play sega plus *? the gods in vegas? * An ounce of weed in every type of flavor Bank accounts wit fat paper, a major player cos.... Chorus Verse three: das efx Higgity-hardcore, sewer rats keep it raw Beach houses and more, puffin weed on seymour Pliggity-plush carpets cover floors, on bus tours Chrome .44's, diggity-diamonds on paws All my slick cats above the laws, higgity-hide records in stores Hit squad, second world tour Kiggity-cameras compass on doors, signin autographs After, ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? , where? , in corridors Figgity-f**k walls, I'm buildin, splittin dutches spillin Chillin until these pilgrims start ice grillin Figgity-frontin hard like a villian, das efx'll make a killin And grab the cheese up like sicilians cos...... Chorus (x2) Outro: skoob Got the funds This rap shit was fun, kid We hold big guns, diamond gyms and timbs and all that |
|||||
|
|
4:17 |
|
||
|
from Das Efx - Generation Efx (1999)
Verse One: Dray, Skoob
Yo (yo), yo (yo), yo (yo) Piggity-presto, who these cats on your stereo? (Das EFX) My records spin round and round like a merry-go Here we go, riggity-raw as I ever was Diggy Das blow the spot, sharp as ever, cuz Same pro (what?), never rock with the same flow My chain glow like lines up in the rainbow Aiyo, Boogie Bang what the deal, son? (Yo) For real, son, break it down, how you feel, dun? Yo, when my record company fail, I'm gonna need bail (why?) Flippin on coats like Latrell Sprewell My cat's gone broke off blowin weed sales Can't see mine, dickhead, you're gonna need braille Like females, cats is fake, I snap and break your biggity-back and neck and crack the safe Snatch the cake, get in the truck, divi' it up Not givin the one just give me ya cup We're livin it up, my crew get buck in berry singers Shows get wild like Jerry Springer, ice on all fingers Frost bear, me and my girls fare New York share politican, so Hook: So yo set it off, get it off, let it off Set it off, get it off, let it off Set it off, get it off, let it off (Like that) I wanna break fool, cock me back, c'mon Set it off, get it off, let it off Set it off, get it off, let it off Set it off, get it off, let it off (Like that) I wanna break fool, cock me back Verse Two: Dray, Skoob Cos I'm too nice, rockin blue ice Jet black Ferrari runnin thru lights My crew tight, riggity-roll with the ruggedness Enough of this, yo it's time to put a thug in this Look at this, straight Gz, you can tell it's dope In your face, kid, you don't need a telescope Smellin smoke, break the mic, make sure it's broke ????, you can quote every word I wrote My antidote, stiggity-straight from the subway The thug way, miggity-Monday to Sunday Lyrical dum-dums, watch the stray shots stay hot like them chicks from Baywatch BK, to the UK, all the way to Guatalupe Das got chicks shakin their booty Cats actin unrul-ey, who they? Do they, should they, give a fuck, nah too late Save em, ya gotcha els, roll em up, kid Blaze em, roll a whole dime but save some Throw your hands up, raise em, hip-hop nation Nuff respects to my EFX Generation Hook Verse Three: Dray, Skoob Aiyo dun son, hit me, brought the whole gang wit me Sixty, peace to low down shifty Strictly, send the world in a frenzy My mens be, laid up in the penzy Correctly, when it's my turn to rhyme again Devils stall, play the ball, went to Heineken Find a friend, hit her off with the fly talk The sly talk, riggity-right off the sidewalk My talk, slidin with the sickedness You're lickin this like a lollipop, sick of this Miggity-makin moves on a regular, wack MC's I'm testin ya Smack you with a chair like a wrestler Boogie Bang, sewer rat buckwildin Run the streets of Brooklyn, properties on an island A pen and a pad, you know my steez when I'm weeded Bring rhymes together like cleavage So love it or leave it, I got to eat, kid, plus got mouths to feed hip-hop crowds to please, bullshit trials to plea Trees are blastin out my team, blast back Matter fact, my game is tight and that's that Hook (x1 1/2) |
|||||
|
|
3:41 |
|
||
|
from Das Efx - Generation Efx (1999)
Kick ass nigga, come on
Yeah, yeah hit squad, firing squad Nine eight shit Chorus: das efx No doubt, no doubt Do your thing, do your thing No doubt, no doubt Do your thing, do your thing Yo, it's diggy das, m.o.p., and that nigga teflon Lets get it on what what Lets get it on yeah yeah (drayz) Another new year, I got my crew here, lets get it on Miggity make money money! yo, son I got the bomb See me swervan, through the urban Black suburban, puffing urban Wiggity wild and drinking bourbon (lil fame) See I'm learnin, while I'm earnin Rapidly firin, like that shit that the ku klux be burnin Who wanna get stuck up Or get f**ked the f**k up? Blucka, blucka blowe! Bitch nigga your lucks up (teflon) Yo, I'm about to pull the plug out Thug out, but rub out Head for my car, get blazed, turn the whole club out Shit I set it for real when I bug out My trey mark making it possible for paramedics to pull the plug out (billy danze) Yo, we just seep underground to be dug out We represent the ruffhouse Keep one and a half, even while I'm banned At the thug house (tha'ts right) Now your facing a one of a kind dude Undefined dude, top of the line dude (skoob) Aiyyo, we giggity getting bug in here All my people up in here Its rough in here Bullets figgity flying every f**king where Its un f**king faitiggity tear cats out the frame Diggity das, billy danz, teflon, and lil fame Chorus - 2x (teflon) Say hello to the bad guy Hmmhm, excuse me as i Grab my n-u-ts no need to ask why We blow the spot up Hit em with the uncut raw Could be somewhat more Advance with the product (billy danze) You dealing with sacrifice, real hardcore All the love for these thugs that I'm willing to die for First family style! it's deep You catch us on these beats But we should never be disconnected from these streets (skoob) See my higgity hard times That bring forth these higgity hard rhymes Hard crimes, leave em hospitalized with scar lines Figgity far rhymes, my squad shines, it's turn to eat again Motivated by cats who would never see the street again (lil fame) See him in the next life cause thats where were gon meet again And if it goes down then, you gon bleed again Any ground I roam I stand on it Keep a llama with eight shots and my hand on it (drayz) Yeah, so lets expand on it ( what ) Put my mans on it ( what ) Its the shit that make flies wanna land on it ( what ) The higgity hit squad and firing squad We billin ya, killin ya, figgity feelin ya til the next millennia Chorus - 2x |
|||||
|
|
3:21 |
|
||
|
from Das Efx - Generation Efx (1999)
Yo, yo, yo
Yeah, yeah Chorus: (x2) It's the rap scholar, here to make a dollar Try an' follow, guaranteed to make ya holler Check it out....... Verse one: dray, skoob Aiyo, straight out the blue, comin thru, 1-2, with the rhyme Diggy-das, redman bout to shine Drop the grammo, heavy ammo, got the stammo Bought my gango for the whammo, book em danno I shine like a blue bee, who me? you be Skirts wanna do me, pursue me, ooohwee In factually, guaranteed to keep it live Gotta win first prize, yo boogie bang wont'cha drive A biggity-black range rover, now move it over so I can hang em And boom bang em, I gets paid for droppin slang I'm the, rap veteran, it's time to take your medicine I cam to catch wreck (wreck), kid, what you expect? (expect) I lay this flow then they pay me doe Now everywhere we go it's on the radio But yo, I'm not a show off, I come to drop the flow off And make sure the top blow off, it's how I go off Chorus (x2) Verse two: redman Aiyo, it's the rap scholar, hot around the collar Pack a blaka-blaka, since I was a toddler Drama, the nine-seven nigga madonna Reptile texture be the blood of an iguana Sick, dick about nine inch thick I make a fo'-twenty benz-o look like a six First of the month I got the bundles for the wick My hands big as a catcher's mitt when I brick Sucker mc's who did not learn If you don't this time, from coast to coast i'm The dark ranger, call me don punanna So hot, my chewing gum flavor's enchiladas You can tell, I don't give a f**k Deliver the cold to the place that shiver the a-richter F**k you and the ship you came on While you sit around bitchin I get my bangs on Chorus (x2) Verse three: dray, skoob I'm back with my rap forte, okay, no way Tryin to get away with murder like oj Rappers better throw their rhymes in the garbage like trash You come around here you get mashed Like potatoes, because I hate those, oh lord yes Shorty in a dress lookin like she tryin to get blessed What's this? tapped ya on the left breast I guess I need a rest to giggity-go and handle my biz, yes Yeah, yo, yo I'm feelin tipsy off the potion, slow-motion coastin Roastin in the corner just postin Up, drinkin liquor out the cup That's when I struck my luck and saw shorty with the strut But, she look scandalous, maybe from los angeles I knew that I could handle this no matter what the challenge is Miss, what's your name and your game? If you let me in your brain then i'ma knock it out the frame Chorus (x2) |
|||||
|
|
3:46 |
|
||
|
from Das Efx - Generation Efx (1999)
Verse: (das efx)
Biggidee back from vacation Here to rock the whole nation Diggie das epmd invation Down diffa don, down diffa do, wiggidee one two Til we do, wiggidee rock the fubu The official, launch the missile Blow the whistle at the art-official Miggidee mix sure to south central Forget you, like amnesia, biggidee 'bove the reefa Cheap, but das came to please ya Take the bever, now we back son, tougher action Zoom das, zoom das, satisfaction Biggidee back pop popular, hip hoppin' 'em The hit squad, def squad still rockin' 'em Verse: (parrish smith (epmd)) It's everytime we rock a bomb, we get ya mind open The mic's blazin', smokin', he was chokin' We don't remove walls, boom docks, plus the sua We bring it to ya, we nightmare like freddy krueger So call me drama, trauma, slash comma, no one to bomba Eat tracks like jeffrey dahmer, from def jam The east west check my streetbreath, no weak steps Or rest with the ? ? ? , check my repetoir Mangin' on the resevoir, I'm eatin' caviar Ey yo I'm really try to do this far Epmd and das efx cold blazin' it, no face in it Got the whole world chasin' it, the scream show up Never rock you like my boa, the ill flow up Came back cause we knowed ya, another go round Grab the mic, put the flow down, you court mo' G minus 7, we 'bout to bring now Chorus: (das efx) Represent my, generation! Here we go, all we wanna do is flow All we know is get the dough (2x) Verse: (das efx) Diggidee yes yes yo, to the beat yo No matter what the game, before you walk you got to crawl Long term plannin', I make ya bounce like a mars, line affects candy And let the music play like zany And feeds your eyes and what you never tought you see again Diggidee das and nigga the epmd again Ask the mildest skill We built to puff trees and with ya now hit squad, kansas The diggidee suck d's All my niggaz sqeeze, jiggaz get hot, we freeze Niggaz in the street keep figgaz, can't f**k with these niggaz Show stop us, we off the baileys and the ruckus Dread not a rasta, I'll be back asta Verse: (erick sermon (epmd/def squad)) What the deal is son, ain't this some shit? Caps frontin' for I even come out this bitch You forget who we are? recognize, we spark the benz Then split the game to the kids Now you wanna act like my crew, never happen I've payed the way for rappin', last era You can say what you want, I sit back and front The money, the jewels, the hoe, clothes, you know Friends and fools can tell ya so about the lyrical, spiritual More it's the miracle, fly individual Epmd and das efx might checkin' it Side checkin' it! Chorus (2x) |
|||||
|
|
2:59 |
|
||
|
from Das Efx - Generation Efx (1999)
Intro/Hook:
RITE NOW - Shiggity-show em how my crew get down RITE NOW - Das EFX puttin it down RITE NOW - E'rybody raise it up RITE NOW - We about to blaze it up *repeat* Verse One: Dray, Skoob Diggity-drop the new talk, from Jersey and New York We holdin down the fort in the sport, what y'all thought? Diggy-Das what? Lick off shots and hip-hop It don't stop, I riggity-rock blocks when my shit drop Boogie Bang Banger, cock back the rap hammer Bust grammar, I stay bent like a coathanger (NIGGITY-NO MANNERS) Up in here with my skullie on fully on, riggity-rockin fatigues like Desert Storm Yo, figgity-face it, we lace it, far from basic Taste it, shine like diamonds in ya bracelet (HIGGITY-HEY KID) Me and my Squad about to blow Let it go, briggity-bringin the hook and let em know Hook Verse Two: Skoob, Dray Yo, yo I bought a Glock off a Puerto Rock (Where?) Off a block and fo' green back when I was 14 Now my thug's punk crilli, the thug willies We're mack milli, cowardly cats get smacked silly Wanna beef? Get back, on and the street get splashed from your cheek, past your ass til your feet..... Crab nigga duck shiggity-shots from the aimed Glocks Fall on your head like raindrops til your brain pops Yo yo I got a chick that'll lie for me die for me, shoot ya in your eye for me Get high with me, the unfadeable, ungradeable You wiggity-waste your time cos I'm unrateable See, figgity-find me in the Benz on the backstreet Listenin to Blackstreet, fuckin in the back seat What? '98 thug mania, bring the pain to ya And ain't no savin ya when I start blazin ya Hook (x1 1/2) |
|||||
|
|
3:35 |
|
||
|
from Das Efx - Generation Efx (1999)
One time
Intro/chorus: das efx, miss jones Aiyo (yo), whut go around, no doubt come around Comes around, comes around Das efx we goin out, so yo bust the way it's comin down Another day, another plot to scheme Stock to cream, kiggity-can't stop my team Can't stop my team Verse one: dray, skoob Well iggity-open up, let me in so I could begin Roll film at the slim trim ready to win I got the (what? ), head rocker, getcha tipsy like vodka Don't mean to shock ya but I operate like a doctor Show 'n' tell, excell past the start (makin grand with my man) pushin luxury cars Rock an ill rap (word), still strapped wit the rhymes Diggy das blow your mind, no doubt, one of a kind Niggity-no digga, the tiggity-tongue flipper, the funk ripper The bum sticker, d' ? ? ? what nigga I'm iggity-out to make a bundle in all spots Like the tiggity-tunnel, we start bleedin from the concrete Jiggity-jungle, we holdin it down, son, no diggedy Niggas be wettin the flow, wet the flow, slippery Hickory dickory, what up doc? we bust shots Niggity-nuff props to all my people prayin up top Chorus (x2) Verse two: dray, skoob Yo It's miggity-me dray, what can I say? the flow's tight See we do it all night just to keep the crowd high By the side off the richter, get the spot rockin No, we're never stoppin, higgity-hip-hoppin The hit squad, takin charge, no diggy Riggity-rip the flow and ya know we gets busy (kid) When we come thru, miggity 1-2 mic check So boogie bang diggity-drop your slang, they can't stretch Yeah, yo, yo I'm figgity-from the illest part of town, we get down to get found So swim or drown, kid, kiggity-come up short or hold it down Biggity-been to mad places, seen all these changin faces Court cases, and riggity-rip shows for all races Son, I diggity-do my thing for the cream, the higgity-hip-hop fiend Kiggity-call me the dream like hakeem Figgity-finger on the trigger, vision on the sparrow The diggy dark shadow, holdin it down and camouflage your town Chorus Verse three: skoob, dray Higgity-hungry man like swanson, give up like charles bronson And giggity-guess it's just the things I do like ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? Got these hookers car hoppin, and stiggity-star gazin Keep em movin, I'm wiggity-with my mans and that needs no provin ? ? ? ? ? ? ? p-e-t, see me on b-e-t I roll with pmd, and see we d-i-p, my stee Lo, stiggty-stay in a diggy-day out I keep it way out, it's diggy das, kid, never played out Chorus (x2) *missjones crooning to fade* *das efx giving shout outs* |
|||||
|
|
3:10 |
|
||
| from Das Efx - Generation Efx (1999) | |||||
|
|
3:28 |
|
||
|
from Das Efx - Generation Efx (1999)
Boogie Banger, Krayzie Drayzie, word up
Yeah yeah, rock-rock on Hit Squad world supremacy, kid Whattup? , rock-rock on....., yeah Rock-rock on....., keep it live, du Yo Verse One: Skoob We on some wiggity-world renowned, comin back for the crown Time to show these rappin cats how diggity-Das get down Still keepin real, smoke el's and still pack steel Stiggity-still be on the streets of BK with cat skill Oil rap spill, riggity-rhymin over tracks ill I rock the Benz, I rock the Range, bliggity-black grill Kid go pro, sellin ten and a half mil It's the end of the world so MC's write ya will Boogie Bang throw fatigues on then strike to kill Sewer rats underwater, formin, rap seals Riggity-reppin on the regular, bliggity-black, I'm tellin ya Emergency, call up P on the cellular 911, escape the hood on tour so riggity-radio cats can take the tapes off pause We're overseas on the bomb, Chevrolet, Yukon Reunion (The Hit Squad, Def Squad), let's get it on Chorus: Das EFX - riggity rock rock on rock on Hit Squad - riggity rock rock on rock on P-boy - riggity rock rock on rock on Jersey - riggity rock rock on rock on Brooklyn - riggity rock rock on rock on Uptown - riggity rock rock on rock on Killer Queens - riggity rock rock on rock on Strong Isle - riggity rock rock on rock on Verse Two: Dray Piggity-pockets tight, diggy-Das on the website Cops and 'stop' signs, niggas is red lights Kiggity-can't get too deep cos the feds tapped the mic Generation EFX, ressurrect as Jesus Christ Riggity-rippin it, for die-hard fans continuous War with us, the whole industry on the injured list Diggity-Das EFX, Dray and Skoob snap necks We're liggity-livin, eatin off these here rap cheques Fancy cars, women, EPMD, P-A, Richmond In this rap game, giggity-get in where you fit in Fit in where you get like mines, on your man's friend Collect platinum like Jordan collect championships Biggity-bust a cannon, like punani keep the system slammin Doin 90 in Augusta-made Lex landin Shorty feelin this, to shiggity-shake that ass, get busy, girl Das EFX biggity-back off to Disneyworld Chorus PMD - riggity rock rock on rock on Das EFX - riggity rock rock on rock on Shaolin - riggity rock rock on rock on Shaolin - riggity rock rock on rock on *shoutouts to end* |
|||||
|
|
2:19 |
|
||
|
from Das Efx - Generation Efx (1999)
Intro:
One for the treble, two for the bass P-m-d let's rock this place (parrish "pmd" smith) Return lies the power, try to push up and get devoured To pushin power, black explorer with the eddie bauer Xl, el reefer puffer sells My name ring bells and my vocal tracks the third wails Dwell, stale mad plus I make now No details, first-class flight with the females Epmd-dot-com, spread as e-mail Stocks retail, push the quality s-t-l You know the scoop now when I swoop down Blast or shoot now, hit squad set the route down From hot 9-7 to 1-0-6 daily mix Parrish smith handlin biz like a clerk, kid Break: Das efx (are the best) (rock the speaker) d-e-f-x (drayz) Yeah, yeah, yeah I riggity-roll when I rock, rock when I roll Like dmc it's the devastatin mic control I never fold under pressure, time to get ill Diggy das hold it down, kid, you know that we're real I rolled up, strolled up, put my cigarette out Peep shorty on my left tryin to figure me out 'how to get up in that ass? ' what I'm thinkin about In the biggity-black benz just diggin her out B-boy style (what what? ? ), you know we're all wild Biggity-back from the sewer, check the profile The doe-getter, the show-ripper, the flow-setter My flow sicker, keep it drunk like some liquor Break (skoob) Yo, yo, yo Hit squad, usu-al suspects who bust necks Love sex, wriggity-wreck these thugs and roughnecks In these, dark streets (yo yo), my squad creep Mob deep, discharge thee and leave him on the concrete By the light I got chicks that sound alright They buy me ice, porbably in the phone books of heidi fleiss Abara-cadabara, turn skin to battlescars In your face like (break) alomar Nasty like caviar, glass mc's I shatter y'all Lyrical sabotage, peace to aguilar Roll l's for my thuns from the slums to the town (brooklyn) where I'm from, got me numb to the world Break |
|||||
|
|
4:35 |
|
||
| from Das Efx - Generation Efx (1999) | |||||
|
|
3:59 |
|
||
|
from Das Efx - Generation Efx (1999)
Yo, yo, yo
Yeah, yeah Chorus: (x2) It's the rap scholar, here to make a dollar Try an' follow, guaranteed to make ya holler Check it out....... Verse one: dray, skoob Aiyo, straight out the blue, comin thru, 1-2, with the rhyme Diggy-das, redman bout to shine Drop the grammo, heavy ammo, got the stammo Bought my gango for the whammo, book em danno I shine like a blue bee, who me? you be Skirts wanna do me, pursue me, ooohwee In factually, guaranteed to keep it live Gotta win first prize, yo boogie bang wont'cha drive A biggity-black range rover, now move it over so I can hang em And boom bang em, I gets paid for droppin slang I'm the, rap veteran, it's time to take your medicine I cam to catch wreck (wreck), kid, what you expect? (expect) I lay this flow then they pay me doe Now everywhere we go it's on the radio But yo, I'm not a show off, I come to drop the flow off And make sure the top blow off, it's how I go off Chorus (x2) Verse two: redman Aiyo, it's the rap scholar, hot around the collar Pack a blaka-blaka, since I was a toddler Drama, the nine-seven nigga madonna Reptile texture be the blood of an iguana Sick, dick about nine inch thick I make a fo'-twenty benz-o look like a six First of the month I got the bundles for the wick My hands big as a catcher's mitt when I brick Sucker mc's who did not learn If you don't this time, from coast to coast i'm The dark ranger, call me don punanna So hot, my chewing gum flavor's enchiladas You can tell, I don't give a f**k Deliver the cold to the place that shiver the a-richter F**k you and the ship you came on While you sit around bitchin I get my bangs on Chorus (x2) Verse three: dray, skoob I'm back with my rap forte, okay, no way Tryin to get away with murder like oj Rappers better throw their rhymes in the garbage like trash You come around here you get mashed Like potatoes, because I hate those, oh lord yes Shorty in a dress lookin like she tryin to get blessed What's this? tapped ya on the left breast I guess I need a rest to giggity-go and handle my biz, yes Yeah, yo, yo I'm feelin tipsy off the potion, slow-motion coastin Roastin in the corner just postin Up, drinkin liquor out the cup That's when I struck my luck and saw shorty with the strut But, she look scandalous, maybe from los angeles I knew that I could handle this no matter what the challenge is Miss, what's your name and your game? If you let me in your brain then i'ma knock it out the frame Chorus (x2) |
|||||
 |
|
3:31 |
|
||
| from Dj redeyes The beginning (2008) | |||||
 |
|
2:59 |
|
||
|
from DJ Cut Killer - Party Jam (2003)
Well on your marks and get set And cant forget to go Incase you didn't know the flow if fat like joe(like joe) Yo..you niggedy know that im back man Your wack man/i eat a nigga like i'm pacman I biggedy bring it/straight form the cella For reala packin more hits than lou pinella I swella/nigga in his eye if he tess me You dont impress me Ey yo books bring the rest g... Uhh..one time for yo mind Eh yo what up its.. The crew thats bringin ruckus no doubt We the ruffest dream team Reign supreme like a cutlass Get duckets the dough Cant touch the flow It's me the nigga wit g'z The b double o k-s On top that i'll bus your caliber When i pop shit and rock shit like metallica Straight to the heart of them street fake niggas Your all up in my face/wanna sell my tape niggas So honey shake your figures and show me whatcha got (blow the spot)das efx wit the real hip hop Chorus To the hiddip the hop it don't stop(don't stop) Das efx wit the real hip hop(hip hop) To the hiddip the hop it don't quit(don't quit) Das efx and we came to rip shit(rip shit) Eh okiedokie Next nigga ta quote me I hope he got more miracles than smokey Wont be no discussion/strictly bumrushin Head rushin like gotti Your in my dangerfield like rodney So howdy/let me introduce for my peeps Straight from the sewer Sayin true to the streets Well it's me crazy drazy Bringin up the rear I swear/we got to hold it down here yeah So there..let me crack a brew and kick my feet up Turn the heat up And smiggedy smoke all the weed up Kids i beat up/wit my style thats the newest My crew is/runnin more ruckus than carl lewis It's from the sewer now ya see me on tha top So stop and recognizt the niggas on ya block Chorus Yo mc's is irrelevant And delicate to the texture And this style of mines is well defined like webster Aint a better nigga raw from the jaw jabber-jibber When i get stone like sharon from sliver Equppied ta/riggedy rip the microphone to shreds Dread yo come and hit these niggas in the head... Well i connect my rhymes like lego So lego my eggo, i burn ya like waco You need more than maaco I take it to ya crew and keep em moving like im uhaul Im here to school yall Figgedy faggots like rupaul I throw a screwball and strike out the mc And if he temps me I knock em out like jack dempsey I burn some sensi and chase em wit the guiness The illest..hit me wit the hook because i'm finished Chorus |
|||||
 |
|
- |
|
||
| from Funkmaster Flex - The Mix Tape - Volume II 60 Minutes of Funk (Explicit) (2001) | |||||
|
