Prodigy Lyrics
Dirtchamber Sessions Vol 1
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Give The Drummer Some (Ultramagnetic MCs) (Section 1 at 3:28)
Bug Powder Dust (Bomb The Bass) (Section 2 at 0:00)
How High (Charlatans) (Section 2 at 1:52)
Been Caught Stealing (Jane's Addiction) (Section 2 at 4:03)
I Get Wrecked (Tim Dog) (Section 2 at 4:52)
King Kut (Word Of Mouth) (Section 3)
It's The New Style (Beastie Boys) (Section 4 at 6:16)
New York (Sex Pistols)
Kowalski (Primal Scream)
Time To Get Ill (Beastie Boys)
Breakin Bells' (T-La Rock)


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Give The Drummer Some (Ultramagnetic MCs)
(Section 1 at 3:28)

(Intro)
One two, one two
Ultramagneticís in full effect
We talkiní about giviní the drummer some
You know what, Kool Keith, yo, tell íem whatís on your mind

(Kool Keith)
Iím ready and now itís 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 Troopís and step on my path
Iím willing as a A-1 General Rhyme Enforcer 235 on a rhyme test
Whatever group or vest in line I put íem 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 bugginí
Germs that want to law me, quit it, before I heat your ear off
Let your burn deduct another year off rappiní for a face Iím slappiní
Gimme applause when hands start clappiní, now give the drummer some


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Bug Powder Dust (Bomb The Bass)
(Section 2 at 0:00)

[I think itís time to discuss your Ö ah Ö
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 Iím a wreckiní a crew
Iím like Bill Lee whacking when heís in Tangiers
And now Iím out on the sole surviving with my Beatnik peers
Analog reel and a little distortion
Smokiní on somethiní síyou could say Iím scorchiní
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 lookiní for curse
I got the mug one jizzum up in every verse

(Refrain 2x)
Bug powder dust a mug one jizzum
And the wild boys runniní into some trippiní
Led into control about the Big Brothah
Try like hard to not blow my cover

Whoís that man in the windowpane
Got somethiní on his tongue and itís startiní to stain
Shoí nuff equip so wop níget dancester
Butt bond my ladder and youíll get beat down
Hash bond style so Iím singiní day glow
Wakiní 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
(...)


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How High (Charlatans)
(Section 2 at 1:52)

How high! Oh I can kiss the sun
Run a minute mile while you hitch hike
Love shines a light Iíll be a winner cup
And Iím lookiní for the one who cut you up
Youíre not having me you know the skies are mean
And Iím hopiní for a way to free you, love

Iím 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 canít buy what Iíve done before
I want to open up another door
Iím going to let you pass Iím 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 darliní donít let it slip away
And the hand that holds you keeps you warm and [...] donít let it slip away
(...)


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Been Caught Stealing (Jane's Addiction)
(Section 2 at 4:03)

Iíve been caught stealing
Once when I was 5...
I enjoy stealing
Itís just as simple as that
Well, itís just a simple fact
When I want something
And donít want to pay for it
I walk right through the door
Walk right through the door
Hey all right! If I get by, itís mine
Mine all mine!


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I Get Wrecked (Tim Dog)
(Section 2 at 4:52)

I got more rhymes than Madonna gets dicked!

Thatís right boys, you are now jamminí to the sounds of the Boogie Down!
Hit íem like this, hoooooooo

Yeah, yeah, yeah, can I get a yes (yes)
Can I get a motherfuckiní 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 motherfuckiní 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 itís time to get props
Wack MCís I just tax
Iíll eat tracks, shit it out with Ex-Lax
Bitch ass niggaz step aside
Tenderoni rappers, means your homicide
Toyiní non-believers, hereís the menace side
Genocide, come inside, youíre goiní on a murder ride

Peace to all the true hip-hop followers out there!



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King Kut (Word Of Mouth)
(Section 3)

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 itís good to go
Scratchiní to the beat in stereo
DJ Cheese (and a little bit sore?)
Scratch up the beat and go off, go off

Iím not original, Iím predictable
And when I MC Iím 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
Scratchiní to the set or on a big solo

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

Weíre gonna take our talent to the extreme
Destroy this place like a mad machine
Cos weíre live, wise, organised
Three in a place youíll recognise



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It's The New Style (Beastie Boys)
(Section 4 at 6:16)
(Lyrics by M. Diamond, R. Rubin, A. Yauch and The King)

There it is Ė kick it!!!

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


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New York (Sex Pistols)

An imitation from New York
Youíre made in Japan
From cheese and chalk
Youíre hipy tarts hero
íCos you put on bad show
You put on bad show
Oh donít it show

Still oh out on those pills
Oh do you remember

Think itís well playing Maxís Kansas
Youíre looking bored
And youíre 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
Youíre just a pile of shit
Youíre coming to this
Ya poor little faggot

Youíre sealed with a kiss
Kiss me

Think itís well playing in Japan
When everybody knows Japan is a dishpan
Youíre just a pile of shit
Youíre coming to this
Ya poor little faggot
Youíre sealed with a kiss

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

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


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Kowalski (Primal Scream)

Kowalski Ė Vanishing point
Kowalski Ė Vanishing point

Kowalski Ė Vanishing point
Kowalski Ė Vanishing point

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


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Time To Get Ill (Beastie Boys)
(Lyrics by M. Diamond, A. Yauch and The King)

Iím not the type of person who likes to waste my time
And when Iím on the mic Ė I just say my rhymes
Because Iím out on bail Ė the check is in the mail
They can sentence me to life Ė but I wonít go to jail
Iím cool calm collected Ė from class I was ejected
Just me, Mike D., and M.C.A. Ė weíre rarely disrespected
I got all the time that I need to kill
Whatís the time? Ė itís time to get ill


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Breakin Bells' (T-La Rock)
(Lyrics that are in parenthenses are uncertain)

When it comes to smokiní lyrics (then this rapperís on track?)
(Production ??? between my brain I will wreck?)
No matter what the job Iím asked Iíll always do it well
My skill my perpetual Iíll only excel
(To a power Iíll remain?) superior to all
Iíll handle any task no matter big or small
For my rapping capability, Iím never underrated
When it comes to smokin lyrics, Iím always nominated.
Iím the number one contender in the hip-hop race
(All the penalties Iím falling from for?) now u must face
The ultimate challenger, of course thatís me
Super rapper T-La Rock, Iím the (greatest?) MC
With my voice so stimulating, feels so seductive
One canít help but find themselves reluctant
To attend the performance of another vocalist
(And so it will follow to rap like this?)

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