Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Knick Knack Patty Wack, artist - EPMD. Album song Unfinished Business, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 31.12.1990
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Priority
Song language: English
Knick Knack Patty Wack |
Yo, and special guests on my show |
Is the K |
To the S to the O-L-O |
And me, the capital D, the O to C |
The a.k.a., the P the M the D |
And me, the E to the D to the O |
To the U to the B to the L to the E |
It’s time P |
To rip the M the I to C |
So knick knack paddy wack give a dog a bone |
K-Solo (yo) I pass P the microphone |
Nah black (why P?) to each his own |
So knick knack paddy wack give the dog a bone |
Aiyyo, I pass E the microphone |
It’s me, yes the MC Grand Royal |
Who loves rappin, and to it I stay loyal |
I can’t tell, you ain’t caught up in my spell |
You dwell on the other crab MC’s that fell |
Apart from the start, that didn’t know the art |
Of rappin, to keep the people’s hands clappin |
But it’s me, I know the way it should be |
The flow slow, like me and PMD |
And that black, will make you real fat |
A real swinger, and a real cool cat |
Like a jazz player, or someone on the accordion |
Producing crazy hits like, if I was Barry Gordy and |
Here’s a tip, to show you how to rip |
A crab in half, and watch his posse flip |
So me, the E, I come equipped |
Heavy ammunition, so I don’t have to dip |
So listen, to this funky fresh lesson |
The way I drop it, and the way that I was flexin |
So knick knack paddy wack give a dog a bone |
PMD (yo) I pass Solo the microphone |
Yo I pass (why Solo?) to each his own |
Yo knick knack paddy wack give a dog a bone |
Yo, I pass P the microphone |
As I take the stage, with the fresh dipped gear |
I start to show off, with throw your hands in the air |
Because the older I get, the harder I kick |
Usin my rap-fu style from a rap-fu flick |
Of my Bic oh shit another MC’s lit |
Like a Jack-o-Lantern, on the Halloween tip |
Cause as the bass thumps, VU meters peaks |
All pens and pads are drawn, as the teacher speaks |
Because a naughty rapper, tried to steal the flow |
But the buck stops here, cause I’mma let you know |
No swingin, or knuckles, strictly ammo |
Cause as I dust bust, crush, and then rush |
A sucker new jack, with no if’s and’s or but’s |
You roll with the good times, we like to roll with Rush |
I drive a 'Ratti (I drives a Benz) you ride the bus |
So get out the mustard, crab, because it’s time to catch-up |
And in the act of war, P refuse to let up |
On a gonna-be, wanna-be, soon-to-be, whatever’s clever |
In any type of weather, cause two birds of a feather |
Always flock together |
So knick knack paddy wack give the dog a bone |
K-Solo, I pass E the microphone |
I pass (why E? To each his own) |
So knick knack paddy wack give a dog a bone |
Aiyyo, I pass Solo the microphone |
Yo, my style’s aggressive, like a pit bull terrier |
Harder it sounds on wax, the more the merrier |
Maestro though, releases beats for me |
So I can rig up a hit and get paid easily |
People, gather round listen to my flow |
Yo, so I can prove, that I’m the true Solo |
Too many suckers, have bit my name in vain |
Punk rappers thought I was sleepin, but Solo came |
To so many places, other rappers faces |
That called theirself Solo, I made em erase it |
I’m Solo, no name lender or pretender |
Yo, I am the Solo the on-ly solo contender |
Duck MC’s, grab my name and bit it boldly |
Put it behind they name and ate this up like ravioli |
I heard on KISS, with Red Alert and Chuck |
A rapper said he went Solo, I said, «What the FUCK??!» |
My man came over, and said, «Yo, I thought we heard you» |
Joke’s on you you heard a bitin ass crew |
They bit my name, I want it back, and it’s a fact |
Yo PMD tell em (damn you shouldn’ta did that) |
Now for the record, what do I stand for |
One lonely rapper on the stage, who gets one, single applause |
Give me a break my brother |
My name stands for Kevin Self, Organization Left Others |
My name’s no game for those who claim to use my name |
In vain cause their name sounds plain |
I remain the same, my flow of style won’t change yo |
The name of the game is for the real Solo to explain |
I don’t know was where you ran or came |
I know your vein I hate your name |
You’re ashamed, playin the game that drove you insane |
That walk around puddles, snow and the rain |
With a cane, nothin to gain but shame |
And my momentum of the fast flow of rhyme’ll get em tamed |
The pain of no fame, no title again, nobody but the real |
K-S-O-L-O to blame |
When I S-P-E, L-L, very W-E, L-L |
People all out there can T-E-L-L |
Rhymes that I got, or write will S-E-L-L |
For those who don’t believe me, can go to H-E-L-L |
I’m from C-I, L-I, F-L-Y |
Like a B-R-I-D, in the S-K-Y |
Don’t even T-O-Y to be dat’s why |
L-I-N-E's belong to M-I-N-E |
I’m makin veche, some rappers imitate |
Yo f*ck it, Solo here’s to make parties sway |
People, I won’t take any kind of losses |
Battlin rappers grabbin the mic and usin resources |
Like household utensils, kitchen appliances (becoming silent and fading away) |