Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song I'm Ready, artist - Freddie Foxxx. Album song Freddie Foxxx Is Here, in the genre R&B
Date of issue: 30.10.1989
Record label: A Geffen Records Release;
Song language: English
I'm Ready |
This is a rap session |
And I’m the man at the podium speakin |
Keepin you dancin and freakin |
I came alive from the world of streets, baddest beats |
And bashed up a lotta MC’s to find my seat |
So cover your chest, protect your head |
If a rhyme catches your mind sleep, you fall dead |
I kick it wicked like a wizard, rhymin every letter |
To beat me, you got to have a army or better |
Bum-rushin other rappers like Rhyme-O-Cop |
This is a contact sport, it’s called hip-hop |
You suckers can’t hang when I’m rhymin fast |
Cause your mic doesn’t have enough power to last |
But when I slow it down to a moderate speed |
You catch a migraine headache and a nose bleed |
Whenever I break wild, you call Jake |
You try to slow me down, but your first mistake |
Was to ever approach me with your primitive skills |
Not a backyard party rapper tryin to get ill |
I’m a pro, professional rhymes leave my lips |
My rhymes coinicde with your dancin hips |
Kut Terror place his scratch wild, and hold the beat steady |
Cause I’m ready |
When I hit the stage, pandemonium rises |
Cause I delight the crowd with different surprises |
Beatbreaks play, and the king has arisen |
Chump rappers in the back start ploppin and fizzin |
I always keep my eyes on a worthy opponent |
Cause it’ll really be a trick to see em lose, won’t it? |
I keep myself ready and prepared for all |
I handle whatever call, too strong to fall |
When you see Freddie Foxxx, you know you’ll be entertained |
When the show’s all over and the sound remains |
In your brain and you walk away sayin my rhyme |
Feelin good like a man that don’t eat swine |
Fall asleep at night, and you start to dream |
If you was a paid rapper on the hip-hop scene |
You’d be heavy on the neck, and your pockets are fat |
But bein a rap star’s a bit more than that |
You have to have a listenin ear for new ideas |
And speak your words fluent, so everything’s clear |
The mumblin jumbo’s a comical gimmick |
That the devils make money off and suckers can mimick |
When you run out of rhymes, gonna stand there sweaty |
Cause you wasn’t ready |
Like Freddie the Foxxx |
I’m ready |
Street rappers hear a style that they like a lot |
When they make that first record, their rhymes are hot |
Not hot like you hear it on the radio all the time |
But hot like stolen rhymes |
Whatever’s whispered in darkness, has to come to light |
So imagine what would happen if I gave you the mic |
One night, and you recite somethin you didn’t write |
If it belonged to Freddie Foxxx, you might have to fight |
I throw jabs and rights, left hooks and hay-makers |
Only luck can duck the bone-breaker |
You’re caught in a vice grip, tight and squeezin |
Whinin and cryin, beggin and pleadin |
I’m lyrical and mystical, I want you to know |
Cause when you gear up to come to a show |
Don’t wonder why thunder hit my stage |
It’s Freddie Foxxx on a rappin rage |
I make rappers real nervous, give em the jitters |
Give em 'e' for effin and I beat up the quitter |
Hold my hand around his neck and I grab him by the hair |
Then Karate-kick him like Mataka Bear |
Rappers boast and brag about their lyrical skills |
But they all shut the fuck up when I break ill |
Cause I take all races and house both sexes |
They got a reason to sweat the three X’s |
I’m ready |