Dirtchamber Sessions 1 1999

Intro Beats

We go around.
We go around.
We go around.
We go around.
Wind it up.
Wind it up.

Give The Drummer Some (Ultramagnetic MCs)

(Intro)
One two, one two
Ultramagnetic’s in full effect
We talkin’ about givin’ the drummer some
You know what, Kool Keith, yo, tell ’em what’s on your mind

(Kool Keith)
I’m ready and now it’s my turn to build
Uplift, get swift, then drift off... and do my own thing
Switch up change my pitch up
Smack my bitch up like a pimp
For any rapper who attempt to wear Troop’s and step on my path
I’m willing as a A-1 General Rhyme Enforcer 235 on a rhyme test
Whatever group or vest in line I put ’em all behind
Play MC Ultra as a warning sign of my skill, and what my mind deserves
I smell a grape in the duck preserves and
Who deserves the right to be king of the screen
And shout wack poetry what, are you buggin’
Germs that want to law me, quit it, before I heat your ear off
Let your burn deduct another year off rappin’ for a face I’m slappin’
Gimme applause when hands start clappin’, now give the drummer some

Bug Powder Dust (Bomb The Bass)

[I think it’s time to discuss your … ah …
Philosophy of drug use as it relates to artistic endeavor]

Check it, yo!
I always hit the tape with a rough road style
You heard the psychdelic and ya came from miles
Keep my rhymes thick like a Danish brew
So you could call me black and tan when I’m a wreckin’ a crew
I’m like Bill Lee whacking when he’s in Tangiers
And now I’m out on the sole surviving with my Beatnik peers
Analog reel and a little distortion
Smokin’ on somethin’ s’you could say I’m scorchin’
I never been the type to rap up a well
Make a man burn his draft card like it was hell
Send ya up the river like you lookin’ for Kurtz
I got the mugwump jism up in every verse

(Refrain 2x)
Bug powder dust a mugwump jism
And the wild boys runnin’ into some trippin’
Led into control about the Big Brothah
Try like hard to not blow my cover

Who’s that man in the windowpane
Got somethin’ on his tongue and it’s startin’ to stain
Sho’ nuff equip so wop n’get dancester
Butt bond my ladder and you’ll get beat down
Hash bond style so I’m singin’ day glow
Wakin’ up the dead like serpent and the rainbow

Kick off the shoes and relax your feet
Now roll up your sleeves for this lyrical treat
(...)

How High (Charlatans)

How high! Oh I can kiss the sun
Run a minute mile while you hitch hike
Love shines a light I’ll be a winner cup
And I’m lookin’ for the one who cut you up
You’re not having me you know the skies are mean
And I’m hopin’ for a way to free you, love

I’m fixing holes the ones you break up come in from your drive
And the hand that rocks you cuts you up like lyrics of your life

I can’t buy what I’ve done before
I want to open up another door
I’m going to let you pass I’m on another pass
I want to be the king while you zig zag
On a holy road like Caine from Kung Fu
How high oh! I can kiss the sun

Hang on to your hopes my darlin’ don’t let it slip away
And the hand that holds you keeps you warm and [...] don’t let it slip away
(...)

Been Caught Stealing (Jane’s Addiction)

I’ve been caught stealing
Once when I was 5...
I enjoy stealing
It’s just as simple as that
Well, it’s just a simple fact
When I want something
And don’t want to pay for it
I walk right through the door
Walk right through the door
Hey all right! If I get by, it’s mine
Mine all mine!

I Get Wrecked (Tim Dog)

I got more rhymes than Madonna gets dicked!

That’s right boys, you are now jammin’ to the sounds of the Boogie Down!
Hit ’em like this, hoooooooo

Yeah, yeah, yeah, can I get a yes (yes)
Can I get a motherfuckin’ yes (yes)
Do I get wreck and get respect (yes)
Lyrically I can get wreck (yes), okay
Well can I get a ho (ho)
Can I get motherfuckin’ ho (ho)
Do I get wreck at any show (ho)
Lyrically I got the flow (ho), say here we go
 
Coming from the butcher shop
Fuck with KRS and the Dog and get chopped
Chopped, say stopped, hah think stopped
Stop listen to the hip-hop while others slip-slop
Till they hit the tip-top now it’s time to get props
Wack MC’s I just tax
I’ll eat tracks, shit it out with Ex-Lax
Bitch ass niggaz step aside
Tenderoni rappers, means your homicide
Toyin’ non-believers, here’s the menace side
Genocide, come inside, you’re goin’ on a murder ride
 
Peace to all the true hip-hop followers out there!

 King Kut (Word Of Mouth)

Play it and scratch it
Play it and scratch it

King Kut, u know u wanna slice
Scratch is so nice u gotta hear it twice
King Kut, and it’s good to go
Scratchin’ to the beat in stereo
DJ Cheese (and a little bit sore?)
Scratch up the beat and go off, go off

I’m not original, I’m predictable
And when I MC I’m powerful
In my own way i rock the mic
I got a style of my own,
Never have to fight

Cos I can rock any record
If u just let us
Me go off, I can do it better with
Jazz, solo, rock-and-roller
Scratchin’ to the set or on a big solo

Cos I announce the time,
When it comes to rhyming (sing)
Lyrics like this, I’m a scientist
And if u want proof that we got juice,
Just check out the rhymes that we produce

We’re gonna take our talent to the extreme
Destroy this place like a mad machine
Cos we’re live, wise, organised
Three in a place you’ll recognise

It’s The New Style (Beastie Boys)

There it is – kick it!!!

Father to many – married to none
And in case you’re unaware I carry a gun
Stepped into the party – the place was over packed
Saw the kid that dissed my homey and shot him in the back
I had to get a beeper ’cause my phone is tapped
You better keep your mouth shut ’cause I’m fully strapped
I got money in the bank – I can still get high
That’s why your girlfriend thinks that I’m so fly
I’ve got money and juice – twin sisters in my bed
Their father had envy so I shot him in the head
If I played guitar I’d be Jimmy Page
The girlie’s I like are underage (Check it!)
Girls with boyfriends are the kind I like
I’ll steal your honey like I stole your bike
Your father – he’s jealous ’cause I’m making that green
I’ve got the girlie’s numbers from the places I been

New York (Sex Pistols)

An imitation from New York
You’re made in Japan
From cheese and chalk
You’re hipy tarts hero
’Cos you put on bad show
You put on bad show
Oh don’t it show

Still oh out on those pills
Oh do you remember

Think it’s well playing Max’s Kansas
You’re looking bored
And you’re acting flash
With nothing in your gut
You better keep yer mouth shut
You better keep yer mouth shut
In a rut
Still oh out on those pills

Do the sambo

Four years on
You still look the same
I think about time
You changed your brain
You’re just a pile of shit
You’re coming to this
Ya poor little faggot

You’re sealed with a kiss
Kiss me

Think it’s well playing in Japan
When everybody knows Japan is a dishpan
You’re just a pile of shit
You’re coming to this
Ya poor little faggot
You’re sealed with a kiss

Still oh out on those pills
Cheap thrills, anadins, aspros, anything
You’re condemned to eternal bullshit
You’re sealed with a kiss
Kiss me

A kiss a kiss you’re sealed with a kiss
A looking for a kiss you’re coming to this
I wanna kiss anything
Oh kiss this eh boy

Kowalski (Primal Scream)

Kowalski – Vanishing point
Kowalski – Vanishing point

Kowalski – Vanishing point
Kowalski – Vanishing point

[Like a butterfly on a man]
[Like a butterfly on a man]
[Soul on ice, soul on ice, soul on ice...]

Time To Get Ill (Beastie Boys)

I’m not the type of person who likes to waste my time
And when I’m on the mic – I just say my rhymes
Because I’m out on bail – the check is in the mail
They can sentence me to life – but I won’t go to jail
I’m cool calm collected – from class I was ejected
Just me, Mike D., and M.C.A. – we’re rarely disrespected
I got all the time that I need to kill
What’s the time? – it’s time to get ill

Breakin Bells’ (T-La Rock)

When it comes to smokin’ lyrics (then this rapper’s on track?)
(Production ??? between my brain I will wreck?)
No matter what the job I’m asked I’ll always do it well
My skill my perpetual I’ll only excel
(To a power I’ll remain?) superior to all
I’ll handle any task no matter big or small
For my rapping capability, I’m never underrated
When it comes to smokin lyrics, I’m always nominated.
I’m the number one contender in the hip-hop race
(All the penalties I’m falling from for?) now u must face
The ultimate challenger, of course that’s me
Super rapper T-La Rock, I’m the (greatest?) MC
With my voice so stimulating, feels so seductive
One can’t help but find themselves reluctant
To attend the performance of another vocalist
(And so it will follow to rap like this?)