Gang Starr - The Remainz [ep] (2002) by Gang Starr (보컬) on maniadb.com

[DJ Premier]
The real....remix
More MCing, and DJing
From your own mind, ya know?

"I-I guess right now we should start the show"

[Guru]
Please baby, we gettin G's, you know the steez baby
Ain't no if's, no and's, no but's or no maybe's
The vibe'll drive you crazy, almost break your neck
Again we take respect, remember Just To Get A Rep?
Sportin baggy pants, mackin stackin finance
Bold figure, older nigga, yo watch me advance
Used to be a small cat, now I'm all that and more
Puttin the pressure on, catchin rep from the dog
Pure secure, injectin like the fuckin doctors
Smoother than silk, more milk than Louie Pasteur
Ask yourself, "Do you wanna mess wit this?"
The specialist, turn the page, I bring the rage when I spits
Then the set gets wet, I bring the crowd into a frenzy
Leave you sleepin wit the fishes, see how them niggas envy
Authentic vocal tone, transmittin like a mobile phone
Welcome to my ghetto my man, hope you can hold your own
I make you first name To The, last name Curb
I gets grimy, stimey, who you? Revenge of the herbs
I ain't seen you out here, and you ain't got no clout here
Your style don't come across, you lost this bout here
At five-eight and three-quarters, I be the warrior sargent
Gang Starr, rippin clubs and bars
Super-star studded, buyin rings that's flooded
On the low, countin dough in this rap life I love it
You know my steez

"You know my steez" [Method Man]
"Let em know, do your thing dog" [ODB]
"Keep it live" *scratching*
"To the beat y'all"

[Lady of Rage]
Check check check check it out y'all
You best to back off, you jackoff
Rage next to blast off
Get wacked off cuz your half-ass is soft
I bring it to you rough and rugged, chuga lug it
Mothafuckers act like they hate it but mothafuckers love it
I'm the raw dame in this war game, don't get your jaw tamed
?Or broken? I ain't no joke and I ain't jokin
You know my steez when I stand and deliv-de-liv-deliver-er-ies
I Tag MC's like Freeze and burn em like the third-degree
Now wouldn't you agree, that the three of us put together
Make it mo' better to make mo' cheddar
Puffin get higher than four centers
Ask Coretta, Scott King on the spot
Who's the Doc like that man uh, Mart King
Keep march-ing, cuz when it comes to me and The Guru
Like my man Charlie Brown said, the rest of y'all is doo-doo
The butcher, the baker, time to meet your maker
Tell you to your face, you ain't nuttin but a faker
You're cheesy fo' sheezy, next to me you're measly
Believe me, I kick that shit so sick I'll make ya queasy
Now easy, Premier scratch that shit like fleas
Three men and The Lady, and uh, you know my steez

"You know my steez"
"Let em know, do your thing dog"
"Keep it live"
"You know my steez"
"Let em know, do your thing dog"
"Keep it live"
"You know my steez"
"Let em know, do your thing dog"
"Keep it live"
"You know my steez"
"Let em know---"
"The mic"

[Kurupt]
Yo yo yo (who are you?)
The monotone, melodic microphone
Poetical mac-milly from Philly illy-syndrome
Clouds'll form, which starts the wind storm
And the young Gang Starr posse front in full
Kick off like a gauge, then seek the stage
In a seek-and-destroy mission to burn and blaze
Vanish a few, K-U-R-U-P-T, R-A-G-E and Guru
Let's simplify it nigga, just don't try it
What I recite, ignite mics, my voice encourage riots
I don't talk it, I live it, I don't give up, I give it
I bring it, bust it, don't sing it
Get in your veins, melt mics and spit flames
Get in your brains, explode like propane
Yo Premier (what) tell these niggas this our year
Flow through like a breeze, murder MC's wit ease
You know my steez, steez, steez, steez

"The militia...
Certain individuals of unidentified nature
is now under complete control"

"Hip-hop is not, what it is today.."

"It's the real *echoes*... it's the (militia)"

Verse one: Big Shug

If heads only knew how I felt about the rap game
They'd relocate, and change their fuckin name
I eradicate movefakers, roll with coat shakers
Give dap to mad money makers
Shared cells with lifetakers, have sex with rumpshakers
I make moves so I'ma earthquaker
I've been known to instill fear
Although the world may be round, we still trapped in the square
City light, got me buggin and trife
Some die by the gun, some die by the knife
It's alright, like a game of spades I'm trump tight
Premier hit me with music to ensure that it thump right
And my flight, will be taken solely at night
Cause that's when the freaks come out, no doubt
And in the dark hours is when I will shower
with the knowledge of my trade to get paid
Still I make moves like a snake in the grass, roundabout
I be dickin it down while you be assed out
Puff mad L's but never passed out
And if I'm caught up in a jam I blast my way out
There'll be no lettin up, just straight shuttin up
or we'll start the wettin up
Lyrical infrared sceptor never miss you
Big Shug, Guru, Freddie Foxxx, The Militia, militia

Chorus: Freddie Foxxx

Everybody's spittin it, the rhyme is hot
Cause it's Big Shug, Guru, and Freddie the Foxxx
When Premier bring the beats, no it just don't stop
It's The Militia *echoes*

Chorus

Verse Two: Guru

Yo; I ain't one to succumb to no man, but to command
And scoop up the troops when it's time to take a stand
Emphatically, deep strategies leave casualties
I creep gradually, til everybody knows
that I got more flows than Rosebud got hoes
The anger inside had me trapped
til I got geared up with raps to tear you up like big gats
for big stacks, watch your back when I send em in
Caught you tremblin, my name and face you're rememberin
Several attempts, but nah bitch, you'll never win
Rhymes pierce your skin or maybe limbs we'll be severin
Take you to the mat, peep that, you should keep back
My ill-kid format will lay you flat like a doormat
that I walk on, I meditate while you talk on
And gossip, so I drop my hot shit; fully loaded glock clips
So get the fuck out my block, kid
As nights turn to days, days go back to nights, we be speaking it right
And keeping it tight up in the street life
I meet life, head on, no holds barred
Born with a heart of gold, now mostly cold and scarred
En guard, choose your weapon, or get to steppin
Lyrical bullets make you dance from the trance you be kept in
Assessments are made before, and during combat
I master my hunger, blow the spot when I bomb cats
One of us, equals many of us
Disrespect one of us, you'll see plenty of us
Conflict, is what I predict
You and your fellas is mad jealous, attempting to flare
We cleverly stalked ya, your fam'll miss ya
The war's on, that's why we formed The Militia

Chorus

Verse Three: Freddie Foxxx

You niggaz owe me for my rhymes, I come to collect
For you dope fiend niggaz in rap, I here to inject, check
My style is water baby, spread it around
But when you niggaz don't flow it right and fuck up my sound
I get down; in '89 I spit the buck in the face
of every MC that came in the place, a scar you'll never erase
MC's are only recognized for their flows
I'm worldwide for the bitches, that I turned into hoes
You heard me spit it on Jew-elz, that's how it goes
For all them faking ass niggaz and how I bust up they nose
And while your, nose is drippin, and drainin blood
I be standing over you screamin, "Nigga, WHAT, WHAT?! Nigga WHAT?!"
Niggas feel my presence, like I'm right in they palm
Cause a stormy day is coming, when you see me so calm, it's on
No more twin glocks, they jam up my plays
Now its twin .40 calibre Walther PPK's
I'm in the control of my game, you must respect me like The Ref
Uh-huh, you disrespect *gun clicks* you get the tech
I turn you fake niggaz on and off, like I'm the clapper
I rob so many niggaz, they should call me Jack the Rapper
I'll the illest nigga doing this, dead or alive
Gloria Gaynor on you motherfuckers, I Will Survive
You can try to come at me, but do you want the kick back?
You snap inside the cage of a pit, and you get bit back, huh
My war is so tight, my drama so ill
Beef with me hangs around like a unpaid bill
I push these lyrics through any MC, and make it burn
So the niggaz who be rhyming next, will miss a turn
When you speak of who's the dopest MC, I don't come up
But when you speak of who's the livest MC, I stay what up, what's up?
I got stripes while you got strikes and bogus mikes
Do what bitch niggaz do best *UTFO sample* bite
You niggaz can't make up a law that I don't overrule, overthrow
Prim' brought Bumpy these tracks so I can let you know
Before I slide I'ma leave you this jewel
Even mechanics walk around with they tools
It's the Militia

[Guru]
The question remains.. which MC's will reign
Which ones will gain, how many suckers will feel pain
"Ask yourself the same question"
"What is it.."

Phrases I spit like slugs after I sip from my mug
Life is bugged, the bassline groove is my drug
Now that you feel me, yo here's some advice
All you foul niggaz gonna pay the fuckin price
So take that phony hardcore look off your grill
Cause I be stompin ya still with the intent to kill
This is a battle rhyme in case you haven't noticed
You get replaced you get demoted
I give chumps cranium lumps just like Louisville
I stand tall, just like the Catskill Mountains
Preyin like a cougar ready to pounce and
denouncin, all the unrealistic fake gangsters
fake mystics; so let me make this specific
You know we're nearest the original gifted
Rhymes get twisted, brain cells dissolve
As the world revolves, wack crews lick my balls
They can't deal with the realism
When they go for the mic, they better bring their steel with them
They're gonna need crazy help
When I get down for mine, murderin suckers for delf

"Ask yourself the same question"
"What is it.."
The question remains.. which MC's will reign
Which ones will gain, how many suckers will feel pain
"Ask yourself the same question"
"What is it.."

So umm.. "THERE'S NO NEED TO WORRY!"
My sight is never blurry, I hit you with the flurry
of rhymes and laws, combined with raw style and grace
You're just a pile of waste if you can't place in this rap race
I've been here, I'm stayin, what, think I'm playin?
I've been down, I came up, the hard way, I'm sayin
Bless my Pops he's divine
but what he owns is his, and what's mine is mine
So God bless the child in the streets that's wild
I can easily pull, a perpin MC's file
You can study for years and be the world's top scholar
Out here, life's a gamble, people scramble for dollars
With the textbook sense, you can still be dense
Rather master the game than dwell in sorrow and shame
I'm a survivor, so I'ma always remain
the little nigga with the voice to leave a stain on your brain

"Ask yourself the same question"
..
The question remains.. which MC's will reign
Which ones will gain, how many suckers will feel pain
"Ask yourself the same question"
"What is it.."
The question remains.. which MC's will reign
Which ones will gain, how many suckers will feel pain
"Ask yourself the same question"
"What is it.."

My microphone, is CALLIN
So I'm one-two checkin, and yes yes y'allin
Fallen, heroes are zeroes, I ain't down with the weirdos
I'm true to the game, fuck fame, peep my concerto
And yea though I walk through the valley, from Brooklyn to Cali
Huh, I leave the real niggaz rallied
Cause I ain't fakin no jax, MC's are taken aback
Cause the songs they be makin crazy wack
So I subtract them, I'm one ill black man
I pack man, liable to cap when I'm rappin
So all that's left is the bloodstains
but still the question remains

"Ask yourself the same question"
"What is it.."
The question remains.. which MC's will reign
Which ones will gain, how many suckers will feel pain
"Ask yourself the same question"
"What is it.."
The question remains.. which MC's will reign
Which ones will gain, how many suckers will feel pain
"Ask yourself the same question"
"What is it.."

Now I'm about to get funky..
to somethin that Premier plays
Funky.. we gonna do it this way
I'm gettin funky.. to somethin that Premier plays
I'm the Guru and we'll do it this way
Now give the credit.. where it is due
Give the credit y'all.. where it's due
Now give the credit.. where it is due
Give the credit y'all.. where it's due
I'm heated up, cause I'm seein folks that are so phony
They didn't know me when I was broke and I was lonely
Only a few came to check me, so they come first..
.. and yo our people come next G
We'd go to a club, the Milky Way or the Payday
The outlaw spots, where the music was real hot
And you wasn't there, when the underrated, real MC's
came equipped.. and used to kick slick lyrics
All live, without no lipsync
To a dope crate, building skills from instinct
I'm tired of people, gettin all excited
I'm not trippin on just a thing, but I'm delighted
to let you know, that some others be flim-flammin
I'll let you know, that all this time, we been jammin
So give up the props Hobbes, jealousy's a flaw
If the next man deserves it, earns it, it should be law
So let him pass right through
Because you got to give the credit y'all where it is due

You know you got to give the credit.. where it is due
Give the credit y'all.. where it's due
Give the credit.. where it is due
Give the credit y'all.. where it's due
Some of the dopest MC's don't really get enough light
Cause their record companies don't really market them right
Most of the people signin acts,
they ain't from the street
Cause yo they come from the sweet..
.. soft section of town
While they be sweatin
and pretendin that they know a real rap sound
But I know some guys, and some ladies,
that can fill those spots mate
to promote the real greats
and educate, and get it straight
And mobilizin the imitators, exposin the explosive core
I hope to explore
galaxies of remedies for your wack rap sickness
as I convey relay, mack rap quickness
In this business, I witness trickyness
Some MC's are into stickyness
But I'm sayin this, from experience, I'm furious
I didn't get this far overnight, and there's nothin like
the real thing, the real swing right? (real swing right?)
("On and on.." -) Biz) I'm takin things that are true
So won't you give the credit y'all where it is due

So yo I'm fed, cause people like to talk too much
They're misled, and yo they like to sqwak too much
But let me tell you baby you can't front on this
twenty-four track mix, with the deep-ass kick
The objective, is to surely demolish
the chances of the wack takin all the dollars
Support the brothers who are truly gifted
This way, the odds, could never be shifted
Like my man, you know he works real hard
He's good at what he does and now he lives real large
So why envy him, or anyone in his crew
Just sit back and give the credit y'all where it is due
Give the credit.. where it's due
Give the credit y'all.. where it is due
Give the credit.. where it's due
Just give the credit y'all.. where it is due

"I would like to play a.. little tune I just composed not so long ago"
"Ms. Billie, Ms. Billie, Ms. Billie Holiday"
*HORNS*
*drum roll* *piano keys played*
*HORNS*
"Byrd..?" *trumpet solo* *group horns*
"The music called jazz.." -) Guru
*HORNS*

[Guru]
It's roots are in the sounds of the African
or should I say the mother.. bringin us back again
From the drummin on the Congo, we came with a strong flow
and continue to grow
Feet move, to the beat of the t'balo
Now dig the story and follow
For then it landed, on American soil
Through the sweat, the blood, and the toil
Hear, "Praise the Lord," shouted on chain gangs
Pain they felt, but it helped them to maintain
Scott Joplin's rags, Bessie Smith's blues
St. Louis blues, they were all the news
Ringin smooth.. in all the listeners ears
Fulfillin the needs, and plantin the seeds
of a jazz thing

King Oliver's group was a train comin through
to Chicago, bringin the New Orleans groove
And when Satchmo blew, the audience knew
Basil Street blues was the whole house tune
it was music.. great to dance to
Great to romance to with a lot to say to you
Relaying a message, revealing the essence
of a jazz thing

* DJ Premier cuts "jazz music" *

In the 40's came be-bop, the first be-bop
The real be-bop, so let me talk about
Diz' and Byrd, givin the word
Defining how a beat could be so complete
Playing with ferocity, thinkin with velocity
About ornathology, or anthropology
and even ?, and this is real history
Theolonious Monk, a melodious thunk
No mistakes were made with the notes he played
His conception, was ?re condite?
A star glowing bright among dim lights
The critics did cite that he sounded alright
Charlie Mingus, such nimble fingers
Droppin the bass, all over the place
and Max Roach, cymbals socking
Bass drum talking, snare drum rocking
Restructuring.. the metaphysics
of a jazz thing

John Coltrane, a man supreme
He was the cream.. he was the wise one
The impression of Afro Blue
and of the promise, that was not kept
He was a GIANT step, and there was Ornette Coleman
He was another soul man
The original invisible, playing great music
I wonder why the ?Bangles? couldn't use it
Now listen see
The real mystery is how music history
created by white men or any other white man
that pretended he originated "uh-huh.."
and contended that he innovated "uh-huh.."
a jazz thing
("Of course we know who can really blow")
Scheamin on the meaning
of a jazz thing

And this music ain't dead, so don't be misled
by those who said that jazz was on it's deathbed
Cause when Betty Carter sings a song
ain't nuttin goin on, but simply good music
And you won't refuse it
She's takin her time, makin the nuances rhyme
Sonny Rollins, tenor saxophone
with a big old tone, recitin poems
with notes as words, and haven't you heard
NEXT STOP BUTTER, RIGHT PAST OLEO
Now there's young cats blowin
And more and more people, yes they will be knowin
Jazz ain't the past, this music's gonna last
and as the facts unfold, remember who foretold
The 90's, will be the decade of
a jazz thing "I love jazz music" (3X)

* Primo scratches "I love jazz music" *

A jazz thing..

Shit, it ain't go hold me back, I gotta go all out to get mine
A tech nine might come in handy for the next time
I'm frustrated, chumps are making me mad
Don't seem to understand that I'm just that bad
Too gold, too bold, too fly for them to stop
The man to respect 'cause I'm ripping up blocks
I gotta get the dough, gotta run the show
I'm flipping like a kilo, stash a million or so
Go for what you feel and deal wit this
'Cause I'm dangerous, I come real wit this
And packing and strapping, it goes along wit the rapping
By any means necessary, you can't get buried
I may come wit a smile but I've been known to get crazy wild
So when you scheme, yo, I scheme too
And I've been out here and yes, I've seen you
I know your face, I know your name and all your people kid
I've got mad connections, so won't do a bid
I make the moves, I'm never faking
'Cause the loot is for the taking

The loot is for the taking

Mad murderer stalk in the night when you walk
Feelings of stone to the bone, I'm a rock
No regrets for doing shit I had to do
I was hard headed and yea, I still am too
But you know I got things under control
So you should slow your roll that's my advice to you bro
A street veteran, sometimes I'm trife as a juvenile
I'll beep your style, you can't fuck wit the golden child
That's why you're riffing but you know you're just ass kissing
You wanna meet'cha maker, I'm a take ya
Or else let the man command
'Cause I'll be ready to get you open, ain't no joking, I jam
So if you wanna know who's really boss
Then try your game, lamb, and end up taking a big loss
If I don't get my way, you're history
To you, I'm a mystery, you never understand me
I came to grab the tapes and be out
I came to get what's due to me 'cause I got clout
I make the moves, I'm never faking
'Cause the loot is for the taking

The loot is for the taking

I'm sinister, I'm selling no wolf tickets here
Rolling correct to get my point across clear
Sights in the city make me bitter
And I ain't taking no shit from no sucker nigga
I move swift, always looking for the money to make
I need the cash flow, I got a lot at stake
And I could never go out like a crab
So shut the hell up and put the money in a big bag
Hand it over smooth like
I need fat dough, I got things to do tonight
I'm always on my job, ain't no time to be caught short
And those outta line, pay a fine or get knocked off
It's my turn to clock the duckets
Being broke, nah, I can't fuck wit it
I'm making moves, never faking
'Cause the loot is for the taking

The loot is for the taking