Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Stop, Look And Listen, 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
Stop, Look And Listen |
Turn up your radio, stand by the speakers |
Brace yourself, or you might get weaker |
My rhymes hypnotize your total insides |
Now we’re about to take a serious ride |
Meet me, here’s the introduction |
My name’s Freddie Foxxx, and I’m the rap seductor |
You wanna run up, run up right to come get this |
So you can all witness lyrical fitness |
The rapper that you’re hearin is the microphone killer |
The b-boy idol and the fly girl thriller |
The microphone mangler, MC strangler |
Milky as silk pads, rougher than Wrangler |
Mad for the mic, waitin in a rage |
I’m tight and all anxious to rush the stage |
Rappers sit back, relax and get cosy |
I’m about to play y’all like ring around the rosie |
Pack up your rhymes and move south |
Or else it’s '1st round, Freddie by a knock-out' |
You can’t move, I got you surrounded |
Huh, cause I wrote rhymes and bass pounded |
To the body (*cutting*) to the head (*cutting*) |
How you gonna last on stage with Fred? |
Your mind’s workin overtime thinkin bout the latest |
Hit from the baritone voice of the greatest |
Open your eyes, so you can all see it |
If you wanna go out like a whimp, then so be it |
I keep comin, it never stops |
Kill your brain, give you no props |
Blast the music, see what you’re missin |
Stop (stop) look (look) and listen |
(Warning) |
Watch the Foxxx |
Time is precious, so I’mma keep goin |
Bustin off rhymes, watch me keep flowin |
When I storm, you’re in my way, you’re smashed |
Drug to the Dungeon, and then crashed |
Line em up one at a time, and I take em |
Bring em up, 5s and 10s, and I break em |
Nobody walks, all comers get hurt |
Killin up MC’s, that’s my work |
See, rappers wanna strong-arm, but they ain’t strong enough |
To bite a rhyme, cause their wind ain’t long enough |
Take the breath of death when you chew my rhymes |
If you wish to die so early, fine |
Music in the background sets the sound |
For me to grab the mic and break it down |
One line compliments the next, and you’re fiendin on it |
It’s like you can’t even walk, so you lean on it |
Then I guide ya, saddle and ride ya |
The voice of the Foxxx ringin all inside ya |
Place your bets, his rhymes will wet |
And even if I dried him off, he still sweats |
Soak him in scratches, beats and rhymes |
Nobody else’s — mines |
Walk on stage and try to be the man |
And watch Foxxx kick the mic our your hand |
Call you 'son', make you sit in your corner |
And slap you up like little Jack Horner |
If the message ain’t clear by now, you won’t know it |
Be careful, steppin to Foxxx and you’ll blow it |
Blast the music, see what you’re missin |
Stop (stop) look (look) and listen |
Yo, Kut Terrorist, back up the music |
Break out some hip-hop, watch me protrude this |
The music is well composed |
If you cover your ears, the beat’ll bust your nose |
My style is dark, indeed, goes a thousand leaps |
Into the minds of those that sleep |
For those wide awake, sit and observe |
The musical master of a million words |
Or would you rather see a basic MC? |
If so, leave, cause that ain’t me |
The brag-andboastin, so-called hostin |
Need a little lesson in burn-and-roastin |
Catch the beat, and clap your hands |
And see if we can get all the skins to dance |
Open your eyes and ears, stop and look, this ain’t dissin |
You just have to listen |