| Party people! |
| Your dreams have now been fulfilled
|
| Get out your seats and let’s get ill
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| We’re not just raw, it’s Project Blow!
|
| Well it’s time for Underground flavor
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| Hip-Hop make you change your behavior
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| Now for your rock and roll heads or you ravers
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| You don’t know now but you going find out!
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| We be rocking this? |
| and kicks
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| Freestyle Fellowship in the mix
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| Afterlife Massmen in the mix
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| You don’t know now but you going find out!
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| I don’t think that I’m gonna sleep tonight
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| My name is Aceyalone keep it tight
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| Them other fools just can’t freak the mic man
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| You don’t know now but you going find out!
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| Who got, who got, who got, who got
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| Underground around the world smoking hot?
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| Who got the mic to serve you bumbaklots?
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| You don’t know now but you going find out!
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| Party people! |
| Your dreams have now been furfilled
|
| Get out your seats and let’s get ill
|
| We’re not just raw, it’s Project Blow!
|
| One for the money, two for all the rest mine crew from the West
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| Through with all the mess yes you’re rocking with best beyond a doubt
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| We get you up for the ressurection
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| That afterlife Project Blow connection
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| I’m rhyming to get rid of your imperfections
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| The who, what, where, when and why
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| Legendary style that we spit on the mic
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| Whether, memorize or the improvise
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| Blow the? |
| doors see you? |
| doors been opening the doors so we pack the floors
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| You were looking for a battle but you fell into a WAR!
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| Party people! |
| Your dreams have now been furfilled
|
| Get out your seats and let’s get ill
|
| We’re not just raw, it’s Project Blow!
|
| One for the money, two for the show
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| Three four five six and seven for the flow
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| Eight nine ten eleven, add a couple mo
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| I got one double O one ways I could go, so
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| Have a seat, relax your feet
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| Roll out the stair walkmen rock this beat
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| If you ain’t got this then you incomplete
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| Go feel this heat on your neighborhood street
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| Try to make end’s meet, greet and get aquainted
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| This is alot different from the picture that they painted
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| I try to explain it, the best way that I can
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| Today’s all I got, yesterday is?
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| I’m a grown ass man who gots to survive
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| Hold out your hand and all they do is slap you a five
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| We shuttin down the microphone as soon we arrive
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| Use my powers to the guns and knives
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| Party people! |
| Your dreams have now been furfilled
|
| Get out your seats and let’s get ill
|
| We’re not just raw, it’s Project Blow!
|
| Hang you around and the ground cause to bound to the sound
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| Of the tomb of the boom we consumed by the pound
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| Of the bass-drum bass some, take some take some
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| ?We would be rhymin for time combining?
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| The mind of a villian we chilling and reclining
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| With the mic in my hand swinging to a beat
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| Bobbin my head with dropping what said
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| Hot like a potato, or in Aesop’s Fable
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| Lable this the real typical receipt of?
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| From a sucker loose slips, who sliped?
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| Or give up the mic a beat that is tight
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| Or rather ignite as I put you in gear to take flight
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| Like a terydocatle, a sparrow or an astronaut
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| A eagle or seagle or a rock from a slingshot
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| The error of bullet from a the barrel of a four-four
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| Image mixed with the whistles of? |
| like it was World War III
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| The mic and me are deadly combo rumble rumble crumble
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| So you could stumble down like the Wall’s Of Jericho
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| When the solo’s blown into the microphone
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| Party people! |
| Your dreams have now been furfilled
|
| Get out your seats and let’s get ill
|
| We’re not just raw, it’s Project Blow!
|
| .You don’t know now but you going find out! |