Oh, what a night, yo, that I just been through I barely made it home from this hip-hop venue These 2 guys, no 3 guys, no fourth, yo, this posse Try to fake a move and bumrush me like a Nazi Underground club where the kids are like rolling I almost got an avalance dropped on my show and 'Cause I writes the fat raps and kids memorize 'em I tries 'em this freestyle and boy did I surprise 'em They said yo, that's too hype, yo, who's he think he is He suppose to be commercial like that song about the Biz The kid said "Masta Ace, yo what's the deal wit the switching?" He's bitching, didn't like the rap I was pitching You see, he was a rapper wit a single about to drop His record label told him that he had to make it pop Take it from me Jack, you're sadly mistaken Alot of record labels been trying to get the bacon By making a brother into something he is not and You're better of and dammer on a farm picking cotton They mold ya and shape ya, they bend and they twist ya They get paid like quick fast and that's when they dis ya So homeboy, you're better off coming from the heart And letting the kids put your record on the chart You must use your head and forget what they said 'Cause in about a year you'll be like wake me when I'm dead
[Chorus] (Wake up) The Masta, the Ace and the Brand New, the Heavies [x2]
If this was an opera, I'll probably say Figaro Black kid from Brooklyn but don't call me Nigga tho' I rocks the jams for the young population I wonder, I wonder, can I change the nation It's futile, so I try, yes, hoping, yea, maybe But I can't sit home and write Ice, Ice Baby 'Cause if it comes down to, I must have a pocket I go get a dayjob and rapping, I'll stop it I'm never going out, so, yo, firm I am standing 'Cause my jams are fat like a cop named Canon My rap is for the mind, it's nutritious My word is final, devinyl and delicious So face it as if it was a hot fudge sundae Or I'll come get mine, I guess maybe one day I gotta work hard and must use my head You'll never hit the point, I'm saying wake me when I'm dead
[Chorus x2]
Wake me when I'm dead, hey yo, wake me when I'm dead This life is like a nightmare, I'm gonna lose my head So I make the jam that'll make me feel better I hear alot of groups that come cheesier than cheddar But this jam is well bulit like '57 Chevies The Masta, the Ace and the Brand New, the Heavies So weigh this on ya, underground scaling We be prevailing while others be failing I'm hailing from Brooklyn and I strive for the ends But I don't need a Beemer and I don't need a Benz Still I got respect for the style I'll be choosing Rapping to the soul kind of jazz like confusion I'm cruising not for a bruising but I'll break up Anything that's broiling like an LA Laker So I rocks the West Coast as well as the city, yo I got crazy flavor like a PE video Plus I got alot of, um, skill and that's word doc With battle, who me G, you're crazier than Murdoch Instead of confronting, you oughta be checking The time 'cause it's wasting, second after second You're so busy ripping and daring kids to shoot ya According to the Jetsons, there's no blacks in the future You better wake up before you're in over your head Tomorrow, you'll be screaming wake me when I'm dead
(Let's play a little game) (Okay, I'm loosin up now) (Aw - there it is!)
(I've waited long enough)
Bust a move, let's play a little Simon Says So take your places and listen to the rhymin as I like display a new style that just may Leave suckers runnin for the door in total dismay Yeah, by now, so you're startin to Get a little hype, but first get a partner And proceed full speed right to the dance arena I really doubt it, but maybe by chance you seen a- Nother brother more inclined to play the part of Simon Than the Master Ace who knows the art of rhymin Like a shark knows the finer points of swimmin Like Steady Pace know the cuts and the fly women And so before we start this game Simon says: get up, and yo, I do the same
(Let's play a little game) Now Simon says: look deep into your partner's eyes (Let's play a little game) Look at your partner from head to toe (Let's play a little game) And all those good parts in between, you know (Let's play a little game)
Simon says: it gets badder, and you never had a Beat that can heat your feet, and still add a Theme with so much steam, it makes sweat pour From your faces, and the Ace is sure Gonna do it, as you listen to it See, I navigate ya straight to help through it I'm Simon, rhymin, climbin on time, and On a mission, that's the position that I'm in Takin you there, makin you care I'm achin to tear up the floor, but I don't dare Leave the mic sittin, gettin cold without my hand on Those that dance don't have a foot to stand on And those that don't dance, yo, you oughta know Simon says: wall flowers aren't allowed to grow
(Let's play a little game) Now Simon says: close your eyes And imagine your partner totally unclothed (Let's play a little game) Nude, in the butt, bare to the flesh Now get as close as you can to your partner And without touching him, move your body to the rhythm (Let's play a little game)
Simon takes the stand, just as planned And I display in a ray that's rather grand Now I agree, there are many who said 'party's off' But if one of them says, he drops arty soft See to drop hard you must have the kind of mind That's refined and artistically lined Cause yo, it takes nack if you wanna attack Attract with such skill, and still fit the bill Ace and Action, few can come harder Than we come, uhm - here's some, but only part of The gift that can lift the myth that is swift Only boast the most, yo, Simon says: if If your partner's face is in place with your taste Then haste, you better push up, no time to waste So if you're with it, you better get it, don't try to sit it On a chair and stare like a square, brother, quit it There's no time for nerds and geeks, only freaks With the sexy cheeks, as the Master speaks And for weeks and weeks you will dance and prance To the rhythm I enhance with my chants So here's a glance at a jam that'll nullify And fry all the rest, bust the color Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, in the gold and violet This jam is fly, and I'm the pilot Flyin you straight to the end of the rainbow Steady and I try to open your brain, so You can accept what was carefully kept Till the fun stops, then the party was pepped Up, and if you stepped up, you couldn't hold your place in a chair So hail Simon, the brother Master Ace in the rear
Simon says: yeeeaah...
(Let's play a little game) Now Simon says: put your right hand on your partner's shoulder And put your left hand on your partner's waist (Let's play a little game) Now move your hips rhythmatically (Let's play a little game) Now the climax... Simon says: touch your partner's body Touch your partner's body In every way imaginable Yeah Do the nasty (Let's play a little game) I wanna say what's up to my DJ Steady Pace Sha-Born the technician Ray for real Eye-Cu Rock and the rest of the Action Posse Special thanks to DJ Marley Marl And Tim Westwood rockin things out in U.K. (Okay, I'm loosin up now) Peace, world (Let's play a little game) (Aw - there it is!)
(feat. Master Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane)
[Verse 1: Master Ace] Listen closely, so your attention's undivided. Many in the past have tried to do what I did. Just the way I came off, man I'm gonna come off. Stronger and longer, even with the drum off. I keep on goin' and flowin' just like a river. I got a whole lot to give so I'm-a give a little at a time, new trails are blazin', Action is in effect, and always stays in. Yeah, just like a shot from a cannon. I am the man in charge and I've been plannin' a jam strong enough that it can life your soul. I'm the originator, and my rhymes are made of gold. Once you hear the capital "A" rap, it'll stay with you for awhile, it won't go away. Unless you force it, because it stays with you, my friend, and if you toss it away, I'm-a hit ya again. I project my voice so it's right in the crowd. There's a sign at the door: no bitin' allowed. And if you didn't read it I suggest you do so, or you'll be stranded, just like Caruso. Sleep if ya wanna, go 'head, get some shut-eye. A man broke his jaw tryin' to say what I say on the microphone, you shoulda left it alone, just for the record, let it be known that my ego's only partially grown. And never will I ever condone biting in any form, yo I'm only warm. That verse was the calm, now here's the storm... Next up (Yo, I believe that's me). Craig G, light up the mic for the Symphony.
[Verse 2: Craig G] This jam is dedicated to all un-optimistics that though I wasn't coming out with some exquisite rhymes. But that's alright, cuz now I'm back to kill all the rumors and straighten the facts of me not rockin' rhymes like I always used to, but you jumped on hte tip when you heard me and the Juice Crew. You said, "Mmm mmm mmm, ain't that somethin? Yo Craig, I head you in that jam, and it's pumpin'! I apologize. Oh yeah, and uh, can I have your autograph for me and my grandma?" That's how I'm livin': all surprise mode. Don't even sleep, try not to keep your eyes closed. Cuz if you do, when you awaken, your so-called spot will be taken. I'll take you over like a greedy executive, cuz on the mic my prospective is to be the best in all rap events, and since I have a call, I call experience. Next up...(Yo, I believe that's me) Kool G Rap, light up the mic for the Symphony...
[Verse 3: Kool G Rap] Yo, Marley gives the slice, I get nice, and my voice is twice as horrifying as Vincent Price goes deep, till you fell in a spell of a sleep, and while I'm countin' the money, you count sheep. When G Rap strikes the mic, I recite the type of hype that you like, and make the people unite. I grip up hips and zip up lips, step on reps, you flip and wanna sip on my tip. Take a deep breath, because you don't have another left. Comin' back like I'm avengin' my brother's deat. Makin' veterans run for medicine, cuz I put out more lights in a fight than ConEdison. Rip the damn cage like I'm on a rampage. And if you want rage, I'm-a make front page. Read the headlines, suckers, todays the deadline, your head is way past bedtime. Can't kill though. Solo. Cuz you're still all...soft like a pillow. My rap is rougher than Brillo. So fear me, don't dare dare me, and don't compare me to him when you hear me. Talk about a battle but you ain't yet ready for war. Your metaphor sucks more than a whore. You can't replace me, ice me or ace me, bass me, face me, slice me or race me, bite me or taste me -- I'll show you that I got force. My rap burns your mouth like hot sauce. Run for water while I break your tape recorder. Server-to-sucker: the order is manslaughter. Another rapper, G Rap wrecks, he's rated X, to mean the boy is sex. Next... the amplifier gets used and abused. Pumps so loud, we might blow a fuse. This is anger, madness, ready to hang 'er. Rapper or singer: I'm puttin' up my middle finger. Next up... (I believe that's me) Big Daddy Kane, get on the mic for the Symphony.
[Verse4: Big Daddy Kane] Settin' it off, lettin' it off, beginnin'. Rough to the endin', you never been in to move the groove with the smooth rap lord; like a bottle of juice, rhymes are being poured. Down your ear, crisp and clear, as I prepare to wear, tear and smear - then I'm outta here. With a mark left that you can all cling. Cuz rockin' a party? Yo, it's a small thing. I rip many places on regular basis, and broken down mics were the only traces that I'd been there and there at the party. The mic had my prints, and on it was a body. So take caution. I'm not horsin' around in a throwdown, clown, I'm takin' yours son. So just acknowledge the way that I kick it, cuz if rap was a house, you'd be evicted. And dismissed from the microphone, chokin' on a bone, cuz Daddy's home. And battlin' me is hazardous to health, so put a quarter in your ass, cuz ya played yourself Like a game in the arcade. You need a far aid. I'm walkin' the path that Allah made. I'll attend and then begin to send a speech to reach and teach, so just say when. So I can let lyrics blast like a bullet. My mouth is the gun; on suckers I pull it. The trigger, ya figure, my pockets gettin' bigger, cuz when it comes to money, yo, Grant's my nigga! You've got the groove, MCs, freeze, stand still, nobody move. It's a sabotage, as I take charge. Don't barge, cuz gotdamn, I'm livin' large like a giant. You're nothin' but a midget, a small digit. You ain't hit it, forget it, quit it. I reign superior, always takin' care o'ya. No-frill rappers, you will evaporate, disintegrate, deflate to your fate, as the great will dominate straight to the state of reignin', gainin. So put Kane in, that category. Period. End of story...
