Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song A Chorus Line, artist - Ultramagnetic MC's. Album song Critical Beatdown (Re-Issue), in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 17.05.2004
Record label: Next Plateau Entertainment, Roadrunner Records
Song language: English
A Chorus Line |
Yo whassup yo |
We in the Ultra lab man |
We got this beat rollin man |
We might as well start this Chorus Line, y’all with that? |
Word up, yeah let’s do this shit man |
Let’s get on that |
Yo so how we gonna do this? |
Yo. |
Matter of fact, you know how we gon' do it? |
Yo Tim Dog, you lead it off, aight? |
Aight |
We gonna, yeah we gonna get out of here man |
It’s on you, take it my brother |
Ahhhhhhhhh, call me the hick that vicked |
To lick the dick you spick, cause I’m too quick |
I be appraisin, raised with the brave |
I’m the headmaster and you’re my slave |
Metaphor master, rhymes are disaster |
Have the class to, faster, call me the master |
You wanna jet, project with a similie |
But I’m so large I boned your girl Emily |
Procrastinator, laid her, hate her, played her, sprayed her |
You wanna be taught? |
Later |
I’ll control, get bold, uphold, re-fold |
In tow. |
cause I got so |
Many dollars, scholars, holler |
Girlies wanna stop and talk but I walk |
Away, cause Dog don’t lay |
If rappers wanna play — go ride a sleigh |
I’ll compare and dare with a stare |
You say where? |
I’m over here |
Metaphor physical, rhymes are artistical lyrical mircales |
Difficult, to some terrifical |
Hypothetically, alphabetically |
Energetically, theoretically |
No joke hardcore, rhymes will sting more |
Dog will get more, yes yes yes y’all |
I manifest protest and progress |
Confess with reflex, cause I get cold sex |
I can’t believe how dope I am |
Give me a pound, thank you ma’am |
So whether you think that I’m just a myth |
To rift to lift the gifts that itch the fifth |
To shift the spliff that’s in control to hold and fold |
A bowl’ll make you take and ache and fake |
Whoooo. |
hot damn I’m great |
I’m on the Chorus Line |
It’s a Chorus Line (3X) |
Yo Trev (yeah) bust your rhyme |
Hold the beat, stop the beat, drop the beat |
Gimme a second, to think of |
The dopest lingua, lyrical interest |
The metaphor better for, if and in awe |
Before the score, want more then implore |
The rhyme line fine, com-bine design |
Redefine, intertwine |
Down the line, see the sign, stop sign |
Pause -- and let me enter your brain |
Reachin the full circumfrence then maintain |
To build, in which I equal to destroy |
I’m like a twister tornado, you’re just a toyboy |
Made, manufactured by, Parker Brothers |
You bought your rhymes, from another wholesale |
Words are stale, up to bail |
Cause you fail, try to trail |
My certain style, words and rhythm for connecting |
Dissecting, interjecting, I’m collecting |
Fiends, the way it actually should be know to me |
Cause that’s the way it has to be done for me |
Mine, and everyone else around |
You’re unequal to the sounds of my ratio |
My strength is mental universal power |
For the hour I will rain like a shower |
Nucleon, cause you be on, fatal |
More than able, also capable |
Of takin you out without a doubt |
And with clout just a sissy, a sucker girl scout |
I’ll rewind myself and then begin again |
Strike ignite and burn, just like hydrogen |
Come again, as I intend to start to end |
To go beyond, means of a titan |
I’m fightin, releasing my fury to cause static |
And shine, the superstar, reign supreme |
T.R. |
the Lover has got to be |
Dope and def, the best that never fessed |
Unless you guessed the test, a threat in chess |
Never mess up for my Chorus Line |
Yo Ced, here’s your rhyme |
Metaphor layer, kickin it righteous |
Ced Gee’s the hypest, man that might just |
Rip into this, rap right through this |
Beat that’s sweet to eat, I’m not new to this |
Rappin with swing and, bein distinct man |
Seein the waffle can, rap with me understand |
The fact I sound def means that I’m buildin |
I’m so dope I got rhymes by the million |
The image maker breaker taker faker shaker |
You rhyme like me, you shoulda stayed the |
Hell out the industry, cause that means you’re jockin me |
Your sweating me, getting me, telling me, you’re not ahead of me |
But that’s not all, I just feel that I’m better than |
Cause I’m Ultra, and I’m a veteran |
With rhymes, by the thous', stacks and piles |
I’m a scientist, you say how |
The hell can we ever trust, Ced Gee when he starts to bust |
A rhyme with gale force, conducting with mega-thrust |
To build or ill or kill or deal a fill the will |
That make the people straight and still |
To prance and dance and find romance and take the chance |
To glance, while I still deal |
Rhymes that’s powerful, witty and logical |
Mystical just to show, what I know when I go |
Out, and move on the battle tip |
You rhymes like, you’se a quick pick to stick |
The type of hype I like to recite on — my Chorus Line |
Yeah boy it’s a Chorus Line |
Aiyyo Keith (yo) you know what? |
It’s your rhyme |
I’m crankin up with the rhymes, brain tanks need fuel |
Sunoco, diesel rhymes are locked in, turbo |
Combustion attitude, gratitude, increasing altitude |
Levels, but changing latitude |
It’s very rude when you step on my path |
I laugh and giggle, smile and grin my friend |
My style within — holds the righs to win |
Your brain I bend, like a pound of steel |
Lethal power, to me you’re weasel power |
I’m overloaded with tons of diesel power |
Contraction, you’re not ready for action |
Two hundred rappers a day, I keep waxin |
Buffin cleanin polishin, every act up |
You wanna battle with me you must be cracked up |
Stop the jokes the games you’re playin |
You never were sayin or payin, one bit of attention |
To me my rhymes my clothes my hat my shoes |
My shirt my tie, the glasses on my eye |
I try, not to cry |
Cause you’re wack as ever, never better |
Clever to pick up the mic, in any snow or rain |
Whether or not you tried to scheme or dream |
A beam of life, but my lyrics are bright |
Like a satellite, with crystal ball knowledge |
I got to college, attend to astrology, test |
A million groups’ll fess, I’m still the best |
Kool Keith to impress |
I’m like a heat ray, cookin up your brain |
I like it well done, on the Chorus Line |