Microphone Fiend(5:01)

By Eric B. and Rakim

Yo I was a fiend before I became a teen

I melted microphone instead of cones of ice cream

Music orientated so when hip hop was originated

Fitted like pieces of puzzles complicated

Cause I grabbed the mic and try to say yes y'all

They tried to take it and say that I'm too small

Cool cause I don't get upset

I kick a hole in the speaker pull the plug then I jet

Back to the lab without a mic to grab

So then I add all the rhymes I had

One after another one then I make another one

To dis the opposite then ask if the brother's done

I get a craving like I fiend for nicotine

But I don't need a cigarette know what I mean

I'm ragin’ rippin’ up the stage and

Don't it sound amazing cause every rhyme is made and

Thought of cause it's sort of an addiction

Magnatized by the mixing

E F F E C T

A smooth operator operating correctly

But back to the problem I gotta habit

You can't solve it ya silly rabbit

The prescription is a hypertone that's thorough when

I fiend for a microphone like herion

Soon as the bass kicks I need a fix

Gimme a stage and a mic and a mix

And I'll put you in a mood or is it a state of unawareness

Beware it's the reanamator

A menace to a microphone a lethal weapon

An assasinator if the people ain't stepping

See a part of me that you never seen

When I'm fiending for a microphone

Cause I take it to the maximum

I can't relax see

I'm hype as a hyperchrondriac

Cause the rap be one hell of an antidote

Something you can't smoke

More than dope

You're trying to move away but you can't

You're broke

More than cracked up

You should have backed up

For those who act up

Need to be more than smacked up

E F F E C T

A smooth operator operating correctly

Music orientated so when hip hop was originated (originated)

Fitted like pieces of puzzles complicated (complicated)

Cause I’m an

E F F E C T

A smooth operator operating correctly



Pistol Grip Pump(3:16)

By Volume 10

Pistol grip pump on my lap at all times...

They can be fuckin’ with other niggas shit but they can’t be fuckin’ with mine

I was raised in the hood called what the diffrence(?)

The brothers in the hood be chivalrous

So I rest defense on my ligaments

Pistol grip pump on my lap riskin’ it

Full life livin’ it never giving it back

Too late for slipping so slack up

On my lap it’s on your lips so track shot

A steel dick more prick for pump but

All I’m saying there ain’t no question who the man is

In my civic or in this show biz

I kill the fool kill the fool

Come on what you say

I think I can take all you motherfuckers down to layaway

Pistol grip pump on my lap at all times...

They can be fuckin’ with other niggas shit but they can’t be fuckin’ with mine

Pistol grip pump on my lap at all times right

Cause tricks be out for your blindside

Never understood it but remember I showed you

That in these times you gotta look over your shoulder strap

Well that ain't nothin' but the intent of gettin’ high

And a cop be givin’ you shit but just passing you by

If you’re ever in trouble on the double best to call your pals

If you ain’t got no class sucka

Now ya gotta learn new styles around me

Are we gettin’ along

We family we better be

We got your back we got your back kid

Just don’t be pointin’ one of them guns alright man

Pistol grip pump on my lap at all times...

They can be fuckin’ with other niggas shit but they can’t be fuckin’ with mine



Kick Out the Jams(3:10)

By MC 5

Ugh! C’mon!

We gotta kick ‘em out

Well I fell pretty good

And I guess that I could get crazy now baby

Cause we all got in tune

When the dressing room got hazy

Well I know how you want it baby

Hot and tight

The girls can’t stand it

When you’re doin’ it right

When you’re up on the stand

Let me kick out the jams

Kick out the jams

I gotta kick ‘em out

Yea I’m startin’ to sweat

You know my shirt’s all wet

What a feelin’ now baby

The sound that arounds and

Resounds and rebounds strait off of the ceilin’

Ya gotta have it baby

Ya can’t do without

When that feelin’ gotta kick ‘em out

Put that mic in my hand

And let me kick out the jams

Kick out the jams

We gotta kick ‘em out

Alright... C’mon

Got to get it up

You know you can’t get enough

It’s the candy

Cause it gets in your brain

And it drives you insane a

A music frenzy

The mega league guitar

And the crash of the drums

Ya wanna keep on rockin’

‘Til the morning comes

Let me be who I am

And let me kick out the jams

Yea kick out the jams

I done kicked ‘em out



Renegades of Funk(4:34)

By Afrika Bambaataa

No matter how hard you try you can’t stop us now...

We’re the renegades in this a time and age, this is a time and age of renegades...

Since the prehistoric ages

And the days of ancient Greece

Right down to tha middle ages

Planet Earth kept goin’ thru changes

And then the renaissance came

And times continued to change

Nothing stayed the same

But there were always renegades

Like Chief Sitting Bull Tom Payne Dr. Martin Luther King Malcolm X

They were renegades

Of their time and age

The mighty renegades

We’re the renegades of funk...

From a different solar system

Many many galaxies away

We are the force of another creation

A new musical revelation

We’re on this musical mission

To help the others listen

And go from land to land

Singin’ electronic chants like

Zulu nation

Revelations

Destroy all nations...

Now renegades are the people

With their own philosophies

They change the course of history

Everyday people like you and me

We’re the renegades we’re the people

With our own philosophies

We change the course of history

Everyday people like you and me come on

We’re the renegades of funk...

We’re poppin’ shockin’ rockin’ put aside the hip hop

Cause where we’re goin’ there ain’t no stoppin’

Poppin’ shockin’ rockin’ put aside the hip hop

Cause where we’re goin’ there ain’t no stoppin’

We’re poppin’ and shockin’ and rockin’ and puttin’ aside the hip hop

Cause we’re poppin’ shockin’ rockin’ put aside the hip hop

Poppin’ shockin’ rockin’ put aside the hip hop

We’re the renegades of funk...

We’re teachers of tha funk (thank you e-lyrics)

And add it as ya drop it

Messin’ with the force and the sound of electronics

The bass the treble the horns and our vocals

Cause every time we pop into the beat we get fresh

Come on

Ugh

Come on

There was a time when our music

Was somethin’ called a bay street beat (thank you www.ultimatrocklist.f2s.com/lyrics/)

People would gather from all around

To get down to the big sound

Ya had to be a renegade those days

Take a man to tha dance floor (thank you www.ultimaterocklist.f2s.com/lyrics/)

Say jam sucka (jam sucka)

Say jam sucka (jam sucka)

Say move sucka (move sucka)

Now groove sucka (groove sucka)

Now dance sucka (dance sucka)

Now dance sucka (dance sucka)

Now move sucka (move sucka)

Now move sucka (move sucka)

Say jam sucka (jam sucka)

Say jam sucka (jam sucka)

Say groove sucka (groove sucka)

Now groove sucka (groove sucka)

Now dance sucka (dance sucka)

Now dance sucka (dance sucka)

Now move sucka (move sucka)

Now move sucka (move sucka)

We’re the renegades of funk...



Beautiful World(2:34)

By Devo

It’s a beautiful world

We live in

A sweet world magic place

Beautiful people

Everywhere

Way they show their care

Makes me want to say

It’s a beautiful world

Oh a beautiful world

For you

It’s a wonderful time

To be here

It’s nice to be alive

Wonderful people

Everywhere

The way they comb their hair

Makes me want to say

It’s a wonderful place

Oh a wonderful place

For you...

Not me



I’m Housin’(4:56)

By EPMD

Coolin’ on the scene like a horse in a stable

And a brother got ill tried to snatch a fat cable

I stepped back like it wasn't no thing

I punched him in the jaw with the fat gold ring

I had an ace in the hole when it came to that

Yo z you was packin’ you know I was strapped

Posse kept rollin’ it was hard to get with ‘em

So I stepped back and unbuttoned my Lee denim

They kept coming just like I figured

So I stepped back and started sprayin’ niggas

What a way to go out out like a sucker

But I'm on track like a long island train

That can head up your mission suckers who be dissin’

Always on my jock like a snake always hissing

Grabbin’ and tappin’ me like Luther Vandross

Take me to the bar for the drink and make a toast

Givin’ best wishes to the best emcee

And when the spot is blown hey yo you know it's me

Cause I'm housin’

Relate to the matter as I drop the bomb

Coolin’ at a party no better yet disco

Head feelin’ mellow from a bottle of cisco

Move...

To crush and fry a sucker emcee like crisco

Gimme the cue check one two

Don't try to come off on me because you doo doo

Ya treatin’ me the z to the d like a stepchild

Let me tell you homeboy you're livin’ foul

Emcees you know who you are

On the bandwagon why z cause you a star

This is the year when the jokers are wild

When a fag can't hack it and try to bite ya style

Like I get hip to the scheme before it happens

If it gets wild then I'll start cappin’

But for now since everything's calm

Relate to the matter as I drop the bomb

Because I'm housin’

Relate to the matter as I drop the bomb



In My Eyes(2:54)

By Minor Threat

You tell me you like the taste

You just need an excuse

You tell me it calms your nerves

You just think it looks cool

You tell me you want to be different

You just change for the same

You tell me it's only natural

You just need the proof

Did you fucking get it

It’s in my eyes...

And it doesn’t look that way to me in my eyes...

You tell me that nothing matters

You're just fucking scared

You tell me that I am better

You just hate yourself

You tell me that you like her

You just wish you did

You tell me that I make no difference

At least I'm fuckin' trying

What the fuck have you done

It’s in my eyes...

And it doesn’t look that way to me in my eyes...

Thanks a lot friends



How I Could Just Kill a Man(4:04)

By Cypress Hill

(Thank you www.cypresshill.com/cypresshilllyrics/hicjkam.html)

Hey don’t miss out on what you’re passin’

You’re missin’ the hootah

Of the funky buddha

Eluder of the fucked up styles that get wicked

So come on as I start to kick it

Cause we’re like the outlaws stridin’

Suckers are hidin’

Jump behind the bush when they see me drivin’ by

Hangin’ out my window

And my magnum taking out some putos

Actin’ kind of loco

I’m just another local kid

From the street getting paid from my vocals

Here is somethin’ you can’t understand how I could just kill a man...

I been doin’ all the dumb shit

Yo because I bet it’s comin’ from it

I’m not gonna waste no time fuckin’ around

I got ya hummin’

Hummin’

Comin’ at ya

Yeah ya know I had to ghatt ya

Time for some action

Just a fraction of friction

I got the clearance

To run the interference

Into your satillite

Shining a battle light

Swing out the ghatt and I know that we’ll ghatt ya right

Here’s an example

Just a little sample

How I could just kill a man

One time tried to come in my home

Take my chrome

I said yo it’s on

Take cover son or you’re assed out

How’d you like my chrome then I watched the rookie pass out

Didn’t have to blast him but I did anyway

Ha ha ha young punk had to pay

So I just killed a man

Here is somethin’ you can’t understand how I could just kill a man...

It’s gonna be a long time before I finish

One of the many missions that I have to establish

To light my spliff

Ignite you with these sights

And if you ain’t down bullshit

Say some punk tried to ghatt you for your auto

Would you call the one time or play the role model

No I think you’ll play like a thug

Next hear the shot of a magnum slug

Hummin’ comin’ at ya

Yeah ya know I’m gonna ghatt ya

How you know where I’m at

When you haven’t been where I’ve been

Understand where I’m comin’ from

When you’re up on a hill in your big home

I’m out here riskin’ my dome

Just for a bucket

Or a fast duck it

Just to stay alive

Yo I gotta say fuck it

Here is somethin’ you can’t understand how I could just kill a man...



The Ghost of Tom Joad(5:38)

By Bruce Springsteen

Man walks along the railroad track

He's goin' some place and there's no turnin' back

The highway patrol chopper comin' up over the ridge

Man sleeps by a campfire under the bridge

The shelter line stretchin' around the corner

Welcome to the new world order

Families sleepin' in their cars out in the southwest

No job no home no peace no rest no rest

And the highway is alive tonight

Nobody's foolin' nobody is to where it goes

I'm sitting down here in the campfire light

Searchin' for the Ghost of Tom Joad

He pulls his prayer book out of a sleepin' bag

The preacher lights up a butt and takes a drag

He's waitin' for the time when the last shall be first and the first shall be last

In a cardboard box 'neath the underpass

With a one way ticket to the promised land

With a hole in your belly and a gun in your hand

Lookin' for a pillow of solid rock

Bathin' in the city’s aqueducts

And the highway is alive tonight

Nobody's foolin' nobody is to where it goes

I'm sittin' down here in the campfire light

With the Ghost of old Tom Joad

Now Tom said ma whenever ya see a cop beatin' a guy

Wherever a hungry new born baby cries

Wherever there's a fight against the blood and hatred in the air

Look for me ma

I'll be there

Wherever somebody’s stugglin' for a place to stand

For a decent job or a helpin' hand

Wherever somebody is strugglin' to be free

Look in their eyes ma

You'll see me...

And the highway is alive tonight

Nobody's foolin' nobody is to where it goes

I'm sittin' down here in the campfire light

With the Ghost of Tom Joad



Down On the Street(3:38)

By The Stooges

Ugh!

Ooh!

Alright

Down on the street where the faces shine

Floatin’ around on a real low mind

See a pretty thing in a wall

See a pretty thing in a wall

In a wall

In a wall

In a wall

Huh?

Yea!

Oh!

Yeah deep in the night I’m lost in love

Yeah deep in the night I’m lost in love

A thousand eyes they look at you

Yes a thousand eyes they they look at you

Oh come on...

Yeah yeah yeah

Oh come on...

Yeah yeah yeah

Oh come on...

Yeah yeah yeah

Oh come on...

Yeah

Wooo!

Yeah

Ugh!

Where tha faces shine

I’m a real low mind

Where tha faces shine

I’m a real low

Real low...

Oh come on...

Yeah yeah yeah

Oh come on...

Yeah yeah yeah



Street Fighting Man(4:41)

By The Rolling Stones

Everywhere I hear the sound of marching charging feet boy

Cause summer’s here and the time is right for fighting in the street boy

Tell me what can a poor boy do

‘Cept for sing for a rock and roll band

Cause in a sleepy London town

There’s just no place for street fighting man

A street fighting man...

Do you think the time is right for a palace revolution

Where I live the game to play is compromise solution

Well then what can a poor boy do

‘Cept for sing for a rock and roll band

Cause in a sleepy London town

There’s just no place for street fighting man

A street fighting man...

Well what else can a poor boy do...

Hey my name is called disturbance

I’ll shout and scream

I’ll kill the king

I’ll rail at all his servants

Well what can a poor boy do

For sing for a rock and roll band

In this sleepy little London town

There’s just no place for for a street fighting man

A street fighting man for a street fighting man...

A street fighting man...



Maggie’s Farm(6:34)

By Bob Dylan

I ain’t gonna work on

Maggie’s farm no more

No I ain’t gonna work on

Maggie’s farm no more

Well I wake up in the mornin’

Fold my hands and begin to pray for rain

I got a head full of ideas

That’re drivin’ me insane

It’s a shame

The way she makes me

Scrub the floor

I ain’t gonna work on

Na I ain’t gonna work on

Maggie’s farm no more

I ain’t gonna work for

Maggie’s brother no more

Na I ain’t gonna work for

Maggie’s brother no more

Well he hands you a nickel

Then he hands you a dime

And he asks you with a grin

If you’re havin’ a good time

Then he fights you

Every time

Ya slam tha door

I ain’t gonna work for

No I ain’t gonna work for

Maggie’s brother no more

I ain’t gonna work for

Maggie’s pa no more

No I ain’t gonna work for

Maggie’s pa no more

Well he puts his cigar

Out on your face just for kicks

His bedroom window

It is made out of bricks

The national guard

Stands around his door

I ain’t gonna work for

Na I ain’t gonna work for

Maggie’s pa no more

I ain’t gonna work for

Maggie’s ma no more

Na I ain’t gonna work for

Maggie’s ma no more

Well she talks to all the servers

About man and God and law (Thank you www.bobdylan.com/songs/maggie.html)

And everybody says

She’s the brains behind pa (Thank you www.bobdylan.com/songs/maggie.html)

She’s 68

But she says she’s 24

I ain’t gonna work for

Na I ain’t gonna work for

Maggie’s ma no more

I ain’t gonna work on

Maggie’s farm no more

No I ain’t gonna work on

Maggie’s farm no more

Well I try my best

To be just like I am

But everybody wants you

To be just like them

They sing while they slave

And I just get bored (thank you www.bobdylan.com/songs/maggie.html)

I ain’t gonna work on

Na I ain’t gonna work on

Maggie’s farm no more



Bonus Tracks:

Live Version of Kick Out the Jams(4:31)

One two

Right now

Right now it’s time to

Kick out the jams motherfucker

Wha wha wha

We gotta kick ‘em out

Well my shirt’s all wet

And I’m startin’ to sweat

Oh it’s crazy now baby

We all knew when

The dressing room got hazy now baby

I know how you like it baby

Hot and tight

The girls can’t stand it when

You’re doin’ it right

Let me be who I am

And let me kick out the jams

Kick out tha jams

We gotta kick ‘em out

Well my shirt’s all wet

And I’m starting to sweat

Ah it’s crazy now baby

The sound that resounds and rebounds

And resounds strait off of the ceiling

Girl I know how you like it baby

Hot and tight

The girls can’t stand it when

You’re doin’ right

Let me be who I am

And let me kick out the jams

Kick out tha jams

We gotta kick ‘em out

Alright alright alright

Well I’m wet

And I’m startin’ to sweat

Ah it’s crazy now baby

Cause we got in tune

When the dressing room got hazy

The rhythm of tha sounds

The crash of tha drums

We keep on rockin’ ‘til

Tha mornin’ comes

Let me be who I am

And let me kick out tha jams

Kick out tha jams

We gotta kick ‘em out

(Introduces Cypress Hill)



Live Version of How I Could Just Kill a Man(4:30)

With Sen Dog and B Real of Cypress Hill

(Again, thankyou www.cypresshill.com)

Ugh!

Ah shit

You know what time it is y’all

Check this shit out

Yo B set this shit off right here

How I could just

Try not to take tha ghatt to miss passin’ out tha putah (?)

You’re missin’ tha hootah

Of tha funky bootah

Fucked up styles I get wicked

So come on as Rage start to kick it

Cause we’re like tha outlaws stridin’

Suckers are hidin’

Jump behind tha bush when ya see me drivin’ by

Hangin’ out tha window

With my magnum takin’ out some putos

Actin’ kind of loco

Just another local

From tha street gettin’ paid from my vocals

Here is somethin’ you can’t understand how I could just killa man...

I’m ignoring all the dumb shit

Just hope nothing comin’ from it

Don’t waste no time fuckin’ around

Got ya hummin’

Hummin’

It’s comin’ at ya

Pow pow

Yeah ya know I had to ghatt ya

Time for some action

Just a fraction of friction

I got tha clearance

To run tha interference

Into your satellite

Shining a battle light

Sen got the ghatt and I know that he’ll ghatt ya right

Here’s an example

Just a little sample

How I could just kill a man

One time tried to come in my home

Take my chrome

I said yo it’s on

Take cover pig or you’re assed out

How do you like my chrome

Then I watched the rookie pass out

Didn’t have to blast him

But I did anyway

Ha ha ha that young punk had to pay

So I just killed a man

Here is something you can’t understand how I could just killa man...

C’mon break it down

Wooo!!

Hey!

Ha ha

Ugh!

It’s gonna be a long time before I finish

One of the many missions I had to establish

To light my spliff

Ignite you with the sights

So if you ain’t down bullshit

Say some punk tried to ghatt you for your auto

Would you call the one time and play the role model

Fuck no!

I think you’ll play like a thug

Next you hear the shot of the Magnum slug

It’s hummin’

Comin’ at ya

Pow pow

Yeah ya know I’m gonna ghatt ya

How do you know where I’m at

When you haven’t been where I’ve been

Understand where I’m comin’ from

When you’re up on the hill in your big home

I’m down out here riskin’ my dome

Just for a bucket

Or a fast duck it

Just to stay alive

Yo I got to say fuck it

Here is somethin’ you can’t understand how I could just killa man...

P.S. Don’t do drugs and don’t listen to Limp Bizkit cause they suck

Instead listen to Rage 4eva!!!!!!!