Lyrics Break Merchant - McEnroe, Birdapres

Break Merchant

It’s mcenroe and Birdapres
No… no…you can’t sample this break
No… NO…you can’t sample this break
I’ll bomb you for your drums and pilfer your percussion
Pick up key information from an innocent discussion
I’m a man of ethics but it goes out the door
When I run out of breaks and I need a few more
I got bass lines for days but could always use more snare
After the producers I just get cold stares
Drums is drums is what somebody told me
When they get chopped up, even the oldie won’t know me
He played on the original but memory fades
Plus the rhythm that he kicked has been completely remade
The way I behave when the new track is played
Is sorta like a pitcher when he makes a key save
I put loops through a key change and then rearrange
So you don’t know the genre whether folk or new age
When I’m digging for records, I get sorta thrifty
If it’s priced over six bucks it’s definitely iffy
The other customers will begin to lose patience
I might spend an hour at the listening station
I’ll be late for the swap meet, being early is absurd
When I’m looking for breaks I just follow around Bird
He buys records for three, flips 'em for six
To me it’s win/win cause he knows breaks and I’m lazy
A hundred bucks on Ebay?
That shit is just crazy
When I got it for a dollar once
Beat mission
Cause fools keep missing
Speak the wrong titles, the fish will sleep with 'em
It’s Birdapres man I ain’t no joke
More addicted to records than Gator to coke
Late for broke, I flip finds to grip mines
With hard cash, aware of where risk lies
Where isn’t an issue
I’m learning to view
Had to spot a groove with a burn from the Q
Learn from a master, I’ve earned my stripes
Got some banging shit that you’ve never heard in your life
Rap records, my track records improving
Rob college stations quick then keep it moving
Me and macky, we keep the beats cooking
I’ll gank your Frank Motley when you ain’t looking
Record shows skip the line up for cheap shit
Get through the back door, quick on the some sneak tip
Both of these elbows come into play
When you reach in the crate or get in my way
I ain’t saying no names or dropping a dime
Cause talking in a rhyme means you’ll be copping mine
Later on
I can go back and get it
As long as it ain’t profiled in Wax Poetics
Cats act pathetic and let out grunts
On the hunt for a break, I was a wet mouth once
Now I keep my tongue in my jaws and listen for clues
Catch the beat head blues, start kissing my shoes
Cause I’ll be a kingpin soon, bringing goons
To keep fools at bay while I’m digging for tunes
I’ve got titles, they don’t sell on the net
Punk record dealers keep yelling their threats
Been doing this… since I was selling cassettes
It’s a new day, so I tell 'em to step
«I'm hunting for beats» — Madd Skillz 'The Nod Factor'