| Yeah
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| Smooth in the groove
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| Yo whassup man, what’s up, what’s goin on man, what’s happenin?
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| Yo whassup this is the one, Rhythm X, X-Calibur
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| One two, funk ignitor plus (yeah)
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| Comin at ya at thirty degrees. |
| farenheight (ha ha)
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| The heat is on your ears
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| Right now we gettin ready to get busy on W-K-R-Funk Radio live!
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| (We'll burn ya!) with TR Love (and Moe Love on the set)
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| And we talkin to y’all from Los Angeles
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| Live, on W-K-R-Funk Radio, our own station
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| See rappers don’t know, I snatch a beat
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| I hear a beat, I catch a beat
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| The Rhythm X roll up, my style gets critical
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| Brain connects, computer rhymes get phsyical
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| I walk low, and howl with no afro
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| X with a bald head, like Fidel Castro
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| Walk in a jam, with the mic and my girlfriend
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| While two girls are buggin, sayin, «Keith is my boyfriend!»
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| But I come back though, start the attack though
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| Add up some points, like I’m playin Nintendo
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| Now look at the game, I move step in first place
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| Leave em all blind for hard times and third base
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| Back to bake em more, fizzle and burn though
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| But you can’t see the record sizzle and turn though
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| Hittin the top like a hot 45
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| Like, «Ahh — ahh — ahh — ahh — STAYIN ALIVE, STAYIN ALIVE»
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| Yeah, gettin back into business
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| Rappers get back and do some physical fitness
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| Jumpin jacks, situps and pushups
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| Now pick up your brain, and come and lift up some heavy weights
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| Stupid you’re dumb, standin still with dead weight
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| Rappers try to plex, I mark X
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| I stamp X, and throw em another X
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| X-tra Rhythm flow, X-tra metaphor
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| X-tra hype and dope, X-tra Cupid feet
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| X-tra body heat, X-tra brain power
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| X-tra cash flow, you soft cauliflower
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| But I do get swift, change the pitch if
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| You got the rhymes and Hammer foots to dance with
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| Yo, let’s get the dead party jumpin
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| Rappers are crazy wack, and ain’t sayin nothin
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| While people are steady, sweaty tired and boring
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| Let me go on, steppin to and flow on
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| And so on, turn the mic in my show on
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| Please the crowd with some super dope hype stuff
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| Lyrical metaphor, and some of that right stuff
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| Shakin your brain up, wakin your brain up
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| Confusin your mind like a block or Rubik’s Cube
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| Think about it, you probably don’t understand
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| With a lower IQ, a weak brain my man
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| So listen up, and go on back to school
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| Fool. |
| you ain’t jack
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| Yeah that’s comin live from W-K-R-Funk
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| With DJ Moe Love, TR Love
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| We gon', bring it out, by special request
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| For TR Funky Love
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| Yeah, thanks a lot for that funky introduction Rhythm X
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| I appreciate it
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| Yeah the phones are lightin up crazy
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| We want the 103rd caller to come in
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| And win them disco pants in the contest
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| Now if you ready for some more live hype stuff
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| So here it is.
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| Some rappers can flow and, rock off the slow jam
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| Stay hype, continously, cause I know I can
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| Rock off tempo, fast or even hyper
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| Just like a sniper, pied microphone piper
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| Smooth rough and ready, hardcore stanyin steady
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| In the lane, rock’n’roll ready
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| On, any, MC type wannabe like
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| Had to sound like, gots to be like
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| Wants to look like, has to act like
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| Now you feel like. |
| hmm
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| You know you’re perpetrating? |
| Yeah right
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| C’mon face it, and then chase it
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| You can taste it, cause I placed it
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| Smack in your face, with five million pounds of bass
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| Boomin systems ads can’t replace
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| In fact all, the rhythm is packed on tightly
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| +Days of Thunder+? |
| Not likely
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| Fact or fiction, while I got you scheamin
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| You ain’t ready boy, I caught you sleepin
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| And searchin for a dope style, combine to watch our
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| Freestyle, straight from the penile
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| Buckwild, runnin wild with the golden mic
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| I’m like a flash, first you see, then you lose sight
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| Of the master TR, plan in hand
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| Destroyin a foe, who’s not in demand
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| So act now, and for the fact now
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| There’s no doubt in my mind, I’ll be rap now
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| C’mon on man, c’mon!
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| Yo, MC’s, you say you’re comin back?
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| Huh, yo, you ain’t jack. |
| jack. |
| jack. |
| jack. |
| jack.
|
| Jack. |
| Jack. |
| Jack. |
| Jack.
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| Yeah, ha hah, ha hah, ha hah. |