Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Tunes Splits the Atom, artist - MC TunesDate of issue: 30.09.1990
Song language: English
Tunes Splits the Atom |
| I’m gonna loosen my lungs |
| Take a breath |
| And express |
| Three quarters of your mind |
| The tunes will possess |
| Your only capable thought is a function |
| The hunger to dance and cause |
| Human combustion |
| Make it bang, combinating with slang |
| Manchester the dance capital of England |
| The way I swing is close to a sin |
| Unleash vocal domination like Hendrix on strings |
| Lyrical, miracle poetical chatter |
| The raps beefed as the chat gets fatter |
| You drool at the sound of my lyrical feast |
| The snare drums the pulls, my tempo’s the heart beat |
| I take root like a weed in summer soil |
| Ruff like a Popeye and my microphone’s my Olive Oil |
| Now as I recharge my vocal cords |
| I’ll take a pause, 4 seconds to break |
| As I collect my applause |
| People get up and get on one, speed is my style |
| My tongue is the stun gun |
| I leave jams confused state of panic manic |
| I’m frantic some say satanic |
| But that’s chat, I don’t need the spirit of life is feed |
| Direct attention to the pattern of the drum boil |
| Delivering tracks for the pleasure of disc jocks |
| Tunes is here to breathe life into hip-hop |
| Cool, smooth, but I am hot |
| Yo |
| The deeper we get, people relate and sweat |
| Banging beats for bass for rap with a concept |
| The way I word my lines my boys kick hard |
| Booming and bubbling make the ladies say good god |
| Punks start to front they get verbally scared |
| Rap selection like shorts and I hold the card |
| This is the count-down |
| Systematically melt down |
| Make you dizzy you’re deluded when you come around |
| Delete my spell your body rushes when I excel |
| Make you boogie and your head propel |
| Now one second excuse me while I style |
| Collect my thoughts and check my profile |
| Again I have begun lyrical fun, play my voice |
| Like the notes on a steel drum |
| Energy magnet, human conductor |
| Rap maniac, female seductor |
| Girls start wiggling, jiggling, giggling |
| To the Tunes and leave them considering who is the new |
| Rave, rhyme, genius, mysterious |
| My tempo’s oblivious |
| Flesh and bone, Dictaphone vocal tone is my thing |
| So I can differ from a pop clone |
| 5' 8″ with dimples crush punks likes pimples |
| Rhyme’s quick but my samples are simple |
| So concentrate, meditate |
| Please relate to the state of 808, and combinate |
| Escalate to a break so you can groove, but get |
| Heavy like a lead weight |
| Release my beef |
| Erase grief |
| I am the chief |
| Rock my rhymes and leave punks deceased |
| Receive vibes from minds I have caressed |
| Lay jams flat and put bodies to rest |
| I trade letters send and bend them |
| Deliver heat, as my DJ blends them |
| Now I got 2 seconds to break |
| Take it easy as I translate |
| I am rated for my rhyme and steel plated lines |
| Punk you go for yours as I go for mine |
| Crack heads like eggs on concrete |
| Freak out like a dog in a field of sheep |
| Dislocate your feet, make the beat complete |
| Suckle my lyrics like a lamb to a teat |
| But don’t step too close ‘cause |
| Your footing might slip |
| Trip, fall on you ass and still try to talk shit |
| Then I will vocally victimise verbally |
| Emphasize the nature of the beast |
| With a musical compromise |
| Between Darren, Price, Massey, and Barker |
| Built like volcano, the talents the lava, yeah |
| Now here’s the last count down |
| As I end it on one |