| Disc 1 | ||||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1. |
| 0:39 | 
|
|||
|
Raise the dead, protect your soul
Now it?s time for rock and roll |
||||||
| 2. |
| 4:02 |
|
|||
|
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. |
| 3:17 | 
|
|||
| 4. |
| 3:56 |
|
|||
|
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 |
||||||
| 5. |
| 0:31 |
|
|||
| 6. |
| 3:19 |
|
|||
|
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* |
||||||
| 7. |
| 4:23 |
|
|||
|
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) |
||||||
| 8. |
| 1:30 |
|
|||
| 9. |
| 3:34 |
|
|||
|
(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 |
||||||
| 10. |
| 4:52 |
|
|||
|
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 |
||||||
| 11. |
| 2:56 |
|
|||
|
(*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 |
||||||
| 12. |
| 3:58 |
|
|||
|
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 |
||||||
| 13. |
| 3:31 |
|
|||
| 14. |
| 3:33 |
|
|||
|
