| |
|
|
| ||
 |
Title:
Here We Go (Dark Side Mix) Artist: NSO Force Label: China Year: 1994 Album: Urban Blak (Streetsounds comp.) |
Last Modified:
23rd December 2001 Transcribed by: Mark Murray Contact: mark@cowcud.demon.co.uk Artist Discography |
|
Verse 1 Baby, let me take you to the other extreme I got more styles than Gabrielle got dreams I make a lotta moves like a football player Gettin' props non-stop from London to Malaya Unveilin' my flow as if I was in an exhibition Time for the alternative to pop, just listen Sharper than the edge of a Wilkinson's blade Disliked by The Devil like a runaway slave Goin' out to the Lay-Low and all my peeps Like the Cash and Mighty Ethnicz we roll two deep In the Valley of the Dark I'll get wrecked, my friend So here we go again... Chorus Here we go again, here we go again x3 Here we go again, here we go! Verse 2 Here we go again, I think I've found ya beats to astound ya, sound to surround ya One more time for the record or Compact 1994, ya better believe we're on that tip Won't slip, take a fall or take a tumble Yo, I never stumble when the bass rumble It's comin' in like a heartbeart boomin' in ya chest One for the money, but I think you know the rest So, it's time for the show NSO and 11:59 combined, but the time ticks on and yo, you know we got work to do We're swingin', yeah, we're gettin' bring in's (?) too I eat no pork (nope), no ham, no spam I rock the jam from here to Amsterdam I'm too deep to look back, my friend (uh, word 'em up) Check it, here we go again Chorus 2 Somebody, anybody, everybody x3 Well, let's work it out! Repeat chorus 2 Verse 3 I don't knock a wood 'cause I'm no woodpecker You know I know the drill and I don't mean Black 'n' Decker It's a wrecker with the poison letter I swing full impact like Boris Becker Black Israelite like Desmond Dekker Imagine Black brains standin' firm like Mecca On and on until the vibe gets through Welcome to the place where Westwood won't do You can take that fake crap straight to the grave Niggas in my hoop call me the runaway slave Hard to locate and impossible to hit So watch for the parcel and listen for the tick... Verse 4 Now, MC's come, and MC's go but Soul Controller lasts longer than a West End show So here I come, quick to bust 'em off somethin' terrible More Method than the Clan, fuck ya neck, protect ya genital What? Like Nat King Cole I'm Unforgettable Eatin' up suckers like a Fine Young Cannibal I stand firm like a silicone breast but I'm real, ridin' on a hip-hop crest I got skills I ain't used yet, styles you ain't discovered More rhymes than Bill Clinton got skeletons in his cupboard 'cause nowadays I can't afford to go to sleep Too late to pull out, like NSO I'm In 2 Deep Fuck it, it seem like everyone got somethin' to say But Imma make like Sinatra and do this My Way, the fly way and if it boils down to the grim you best head out of town, boy, your chances are slim Or better yet none, nothing, nada, zero, nish Off goes your head with the swing-chop-swish 'cause I got somethin' for those Devils who be takin' the piss and it goes a little somethin' like this... Repeat chorus Repeat chorus 2 with variations till vocal fade | ||
© britishhiphop.co.uk / ukhh.com 1999 - 2001
Lyrics Archive in conjunction with