Marley Marl

(feat. Craig G)

(I don't even remember how this happened)

(The Crew will not understand it)

(Duck Alert)
(Yee-ee-aah)
(Duck Alert)
(Yee-ee-aah)

(The Crew will not understand it)

[VERSE 1]
Yo, this jam is dedicated to you, boy, just listen
Take off your coat, get in a fit position
Cause I'm about to burn you at 45 Fahrenheit
You're jealous of the crew, that's why you're starin, right?
Forget the answer, the situation's obvious
When this is over, let's see who feels the sorriest
You'll be like, "Damn Craig, why did you play me, yo?"
And then you realize we're toppin rap radio
Cause it's no game, boy, you can't do work
Marley, please tell us his name (Duck Alert)

(Yee-ee-aah)
(Duck Alert)
(Duck Alert)
(Yee-ee-aah)
(Duck Alert)

(Has your crew suddenly become interested in promoting a war?)

[VERSE 2]
Now our crew is broken down into a large amount of channels
And not one of us can you handle
On the mic Magic, on the tables Marley
And when it comes to bein dope, don't ask: are we?
Cos our style is different, or should I say irregular?
And if you wanna get all hype, I'll have to settle ya
By pullin out my 12-gauge shotgun
And if you wanna go rhyme for rhyme, I got some
Dope rhymes for sure, or should I say galore?
But I won't sound old-schoolish, in other words foolish
I have a question now: who feels hurt?
Marley, do you have the answer? (Duck Alert)
Thank (yee-ee-aah)

(Duck Alert)
(Yee-ee-aah)

(What happened between us, was for us alone)

(Yee-ee-aah)
(Duck Alert)

(I am speaking to you from the Bridge)

(Yee-ee-aah)
(Duck Alert)
(Yeeeeeeh)

[VERSE 3]
After this, I hope you get someone to battle me
But make sure this person has originality
That's right, original, yeah, you heard me
I don't want his beats soundin like Hurby's
Oops - I mean Marley, cause Hurb's a beat-biter
I don't know where the both of you get the right to
Come in the industry, steal someone's property
And some of you, forbid, start clocking's
Now that's not fair, Marley's the rightful owner
Yet you still treat him like he's a blood-doner
So now it's time to have revenge to all you jerks
Especially who, Marley? (Duck Alert)
That's right

(Yee-ee-aah)
(Duck Alert)

(I am speaking to you from the Bridge)

(Yee-ee-aah)
(Duck Alert)
(Yee-ee-aah)

(You're from where?)

[VERSE 4]
Ehm - at the final stage, cut the scratches
Marley Marl? I think no one can match his
Cuttin ability on the 1200s
And many listeners, they often wonder
(Yo man, was that a tape?!) Nah, never in a milion years
You see, the liveness gives us the feelin we're
Bein accepted as true entertainers
And it will stay that way for the remainder
Of the century, that's how it's meant to be
You don't believe me? You will eventually
Because the situation, boy, you can't divert
Escpecially who, Marley? (Duck Alert)
Ah-ha

(Yee-ee-aah)
(Duck Alert)
(Yee-ee-aah)
(Duck Alert)
(Duck Alert)
(Yee-ee-aah)
(Duck Alert)
(Duck Alert)
(Yee-ee-aah)
(Duck Alert)
(Duck Alert)
(Yee-ee-aah)
(Duck Alert)
(Duck Alert)
(Yee-ee-aah)

(Eat your ass up)
(I don't even remember how this happened)
(Eat your ass up like a steak ???)
(The Crew will not understand it)
(Eat your ass up like a steak ???)
(The Crew will not understand it)
(Eat your ass up like a steak ???)
(Has your crew suddenly become interesed in promoting a war?)
(Eat your ass up)
(Eat your ass up)
(What happened between us, was for us alone)
(Eat your ass up)
(Eat your ass up like a steak ???)
(I am speaking to you from the Bridge)
(Eat your ass up)
(I am speaking to you from the Bridge)
(Eat your ass up like a steak ???)
(From where?
From the Bridge)

(feat. M.C. Shan)

[Verse 1]
It's Shan's what I'm called, I stand tall and brave
And me and Marley Marl is as close as a shave
My rhymes lock jaw like a pitbull bite
Suckers always try to sleep on me cause I look light
See, a lotta wack rappers try to rack their brains
To feel a style of MC, come on, break these chains
Speak now or hold your peace when I decide to pass it
But every rhyme you ever had could never surpass this
If rhymes were food, the main source for livin
You would swear that every line of my rhyme was thanksgiving
I don't bite styles, weak rhymes, I don't need em
Stop jockin me, boy, give me my freedom

[Verse 2]
I wanna break away clean, I mean virtually spotless
And all year long I been schemin and plottin this
If beats were cakes, then my rhymes'd get frosted
This is '88 and I still ain't lost it
For all of those who still got a doubt in their mind
There ain't a rapper livin bad enough to take mine
There ain't no studio-illusion and no scratch-syncin
Stop - if that's what you're thinkin
Write rhymes simultaneously, say em in pairs
And I would hate to have a rapper proclaim it theirs
Instead in comin in a limo, bring a casket and hearse
Before we speak we'll hear the preacher from the deacon first
We won't be gathered that day to unite no couple up
Marley, are we gettin this on tape? (Yup)
All you dirty low-down better slow down faster
Your technique isn't good enough to hang with the master
I don't bite styles, weak rhymes, I dont need em
Stop jockin me, boy, jockin me, son, jockin me, punk
Jockin me, kid, give me my, give me my, give me my freedom

[Verse 3]
I'm the opposite of what you say a slob is
Dumpin suckers off is exactly what my job is
I'm feared like Napoleon and blessed like Buddah
You couldn't face me solo, you'd have to bring your crew to
Dump me off, I don't recollect the mumble
I ain't soft, homeboy, and picture me crumble
And forget all of those that don't like my rap
I don't be kickin that old shooby-dooby-doo-wop crap
Rappers often brag about their bitin deejay
But they can't do Marley nothin, no how, so hey
It's clear to the ear what I'm sayin, son
That's why we feel like slaves on the freedom run
And each and every time a wack rapper walks by me
His head starts singin: Come on and fly me...
I don't bite styles, weak rhymes, I don't need em
Stop jockin me, boy, jockin me, son, jockin me, punk
Jockin me, kid, give me my freedom

[Verse 4]
We can do this like Brutus, I'm not mad, I'm pissed
This parade of mine I doubt that you can rain on this
You couldn't place my rhymes amongst mortal men
When I be rhymin on beats that set the hip-hop trend
I will always exist because I'm bein preserved
Don't agree to set me free, then you gotta be served
I earned a name amongst society as lyrically ill
But yet I'm loyal, see, cause marley hooks the beat up still
There's no way that you could say there's a day I'd fess
Hamana-hamana-nothin, you can kill that mess
My rhymes are ruthless, no heart, and totally wretched
And if they was to fall down then the beats would catch it
I don't bite styles, weak rhymes, I don't need em
Stop jockin me, boy, jockin me, son, jockin me, punk
Jockin me, kid, give me my, give me my, give me my freedom

(feat. Tragedy, King Tee, Grand Puba, Def Jef, Chubb Rock)

[Chorus]
Keep control...

[Tradegy the Intelligent Hoodlum]
When I made arrest the president, America ate me
Spoke the truth that the gov't hates me
They labeled me a prejudice poet
I'm speaking the truth as I know it
I hold on but it's hard for me to handle
Too much lies, corruption and scandal
Cops want to kill a brother or two
Who do you call when the gang wears blue
I ain't going out like an Uncle Tom man
My gun is loaded and I'm itching to pull the trigger
I'm marking for death as a funky rhyme sayer
Corruption flows from the cops to the mayor
Mali troops will run through your resident
In my hand will be the head of your president
All you fess that made a check to throwdown
Will rise up for a political showdown

[Chorus]

[King Tee]
Yo, King Tee stepping in on a dark tip
Open your eyes and your mind and get a grip
Of the ropes and chains that kept us
Since we were black they didn't want to except us
But it's ok, I got my own plan
'Cause yo, I ain't down wit your program
The natives cook, wash and clean
And to the rubbers that throw in the scene
M-A-N-D-E-L-A
Now you got a chance to hear what he say
Since they kept him locked up for so long
'Cause his skin was black and his mind was strong
But we need to all stand together though
And let the red, black and green show
Become aware of yourself before it gets too late
Another message from King Tee the great

[Chorus]

[Grand Puba]
Yo bust it
Hung wit the flip, got a ?dooby? wig
Now she thinks she's all that shit, her man got zits
Hon living lovely, Miss Gouchi
Even got a Benz when she drives around wit all her friends
Ugn, miss quick fast in a heedy
Speedy, speedy, speedy, the bitch is greedy
Spend so fast, she got caught wit 4 kids
And the man caught a nice thick bitch
Now the bitch is on skid
Screaming how she hates her kids
The move for the bitch is a thing quick and easy
Think slick, she better get wit the wick
'Cause foul, foul, foul is your style
You tried to run the race but you lost by a mile
See it everyday, it's the same old sorry song
How long must this go on

[Chorus]

[Def Jef]
Power now or never, together forever
And ever, sever make it endever
To enlight your brother when
I recommend to extend a hand
Expand it then wish strength to fend
Black women and men from the white power structure
They stucked ya in, stoled your culture and fuked ya
And you gave birth to a nation
You freelabel laid America's economic foundation
Blood, sweat and tears and fear for years
But now here was a peer to give you shift in the gears
The turn of the tables, knowledge and ables
Us to escape the sterotype wit the labels
And years of classroom fables, fiction
Fallacies all sorts and fabrications
?For sarge? even fuss
Star Spangled story, stigma and stunts

[Chorus]

[Chubb Rock]
I know this 11 year old kid named Jeffery Cowen
And knowing his father slowing
And his mother is hoeing
And now should he be growing
He's too young to be sewing
He should just chill and be flowing
I know he was being malested and sold
And his mom for being infected
Never check it, so I invested
My time and made sure little bro was looked at
Pops got evicted, not a smack
Pumped his fists and being that I'm a ?fugiless?
The bum got done by the one
And little Jeffery, no more tears left and drip
Mixed wit seaman on his lip, emotional trip
It confuses and bent ill thoughts
In the soul of the youngster
Is daddy a monster
That raw creates lip songs and heartache pain
Drys and open your eyes for the insane

[Chorus]

(feat. Tragedy)

(Live moti-) (live motivator) [x4]

[VERSE 1]
I have the mind of a sick psychiatric
Protegees perish with my tactics
Terminate, excel, I bust brain cells
I'm international, my name ring bells
Define definitions like a dictionary
Impulse impact, cause I'm a visionary
Tragedy elevates to the exterior
Imperial superior, you're inferior
Intelligent trooper, I detect
And I design paragraphs like a architect
Spittin fire like a serpent, lyrical merchant
Translatin transcripts, and I interpret
Their level of progression, born to detour
Able to lift a ton of lyrics like a 4x4
Paragraph professor, strong metaphor
Pumpin bass like a Bertha, talkologist inserter
Torture, slaughter - then I murder
Gladiator rebel, trained to cause havoc
The microphone manipulator, and I'm Tragic
Science is dropped when times are convenient
I label the lyricist a form of genius
Rhymin is a skill, the source is energetic
My techniques are brilliant, and I'm hyperkinetic
Individual intelligent, concept navigator
Tragedy, the Live Motivator

[VERSE 2]
Recite rhymes like a poet use the pen for my endurance
Techniques are abusive, so is my performance
Record rotating, life is is motivating
The master of lyricists, rhymes coordinating
Einstein of lyrics, mad psychopath
Rather listen to the Trag on your phonograph
Original Asiatic, rhymatical mechanic
Jettin like a Uzi ammunated automatic
On the strenght, I'm terrific, rhymes are hieroglyphic
Use a potion in a motion, my brain is scientific
Rhymatical motivating, chief-annihilating
The lyrical poet be your exterminating
Born to destroy, talkologist terminator
The rebel of the treble, the Motivator

[VERSE 3]
Rock a jam and emotion elevate and increase
Jettin words by the syllable, piece by piece
Pronounciation is related, rhymes are updated
Don't let your kids listen, cause I'm x-rated
Intelligent Hoodlum, brain mutulator
I.Q. of a genius - the Motivator
Let's do this, Brutus, prototype inspiration
Rhymes inject turbo motivation
Deep dialogue, the poetical
You can't deal with the rhymin energetical
Sound captivated, rhyme activated
I rock even better when I'm stimmulated
Attack like a pitbull, physically brutal
You can't hang, cause you're soft as a poodle
I'm debonnaire, poetically charmed
I can go through several battles, and still remain calm
Got a strain on the brain, I'm here to gain
I stimmulate ya like a sniff of cocaine
40 dog buster, I'm here to thrust a
On lyrics a definite must, a
Papermate prosecutor, the executor
Process the data like a computer
Proceed with the topic, I came to drop it
Don't try to stand in my way, you can't stop it
Marley Marl, pick up the crossfader
Tragedy, the Live Motivator

(feat. Master Ace)

(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. Tragedy)

(Feels good)
(Tragedy)

[VERSE 1]
I'm here to bust your shit
The mastermind of manuscripts
The force of extremity
My rhymes are the remedy
You can't deal with the T-r-a-g
Rap ??? flowin like the Pegasus
Rhymin is as easily as the obvious
I bust your head pulsating rotating
This jam is generating with the motion I'm creating
I'm the boy wonder, Tragic super duper
Raised in the Bridge, cause I'm a Queensbridge trooper
The rebel of the treble, the ebony prince
'88 is on the way, I make a big difference
I make it visual and intellectually clear
(Tragedy) the Rebel is here

[VERSE 2]
Because I master great kicks turnin flesh to dust
And knockin all boots is a definite must
Cause I'm havoc, Trag, Tragedy tragic
There are many ways to explain my magic
The explanatory category best fits me
Cause my lyrics are called sweet poetry
And I'm sick of b-boys just hippin and hoppin it
I have you sayin, "Damn boy, shorty be droppin it"
Back in the '60s to know is to know it
And I'm the last remaining of the world's last poets
Talkologist, infinity from when I begin
And to disapprove the Trag is a mortal sin
Diabolical gangster, hoodlum and genius
I write poetry when I find it convenient
Snap a stage in half like a polo bear
(Your Tragedy) the Rebel is here

[VERSE 3]
I drop words you won't find in a dictionary
I write rhymes to improve my vocabulary
Drama, Art, English education
And I'm the man, I design the animation
Mentally and with jock control
The equalizer rises up on your FM mode
And which I use with telepath
And it's (Tragedy) who's on your phonograph
I confuse your conscience, and boggle your brain
You may think that I'm sick, but I'm perfectly sane
I design my rhymes with architectural construction
But that's another story, a different function
You see, it's mandatory to embold fear
(Tragedy) the Rebel is here

[VERSE 4]
The rap automatical, the rhymatical
Forget ill, I get illmatical
Biceps pulsating in my lungs
Queensbridge Projects is where I'm from
Wicked like a witch doin sorcery
With a book and a pen, and my m-i-c
The outstanding ovation when things get drastic
You keep fantasizin while I'm fantastic
Black magic flowin smooth but strong
And I'll have you rockin and shockin...

Swing this episode to the Cormega Posse
My man from Uptown
Joe the Boss down with the Mutant Posse
To my right-hand MC
MC [Name]
To Big Daddy Kane
My man Nut and Cool [Name]
Down with the Supreme Team in Jamaica
Can't forget the 40 Busters
My man Darryl gettin paid on the dime

(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...