Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Ain't It Good to You, 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
Ain't It Good to You |
I’m like Kato, my rhyme’s the Green Hornet |
You know you want it, rappers get up on it |
I flaunt it, throughout the metro-politan |
The world’s my area |
Dance interior, fresh interior decorated |
A painted wall with rhymes |
That glow and show the biter slow reciter |
Up who mighta tried to copy this style |
Or change their ways, to wonder if you can |
Take me out, on the microphone |
I’m strong like Benzine, I kill a fiend |
Rhymes in my tank, brains pumpin gasoline |
Out, I use Exxon |
And any rappers wack, my mind checks on |
Meters and gauges, crankin up lyrical engines |
Now I’m ready to roll |
On you and him, your whole crew |
Let’s film it, now take two |
Watch the movie, your brain will be the star |
Thoughtless, when I take you far |
To the galaxy, and leave your domepiece |
In the hemisphere, now you’re lost on Jupiter |
Your brain revolves around, you get stupider |
Tryin to think, where you’re goin |
On other planets, rhymes are flowin |
Through the Milky Way, quicker than warp speed |
Brains I feed with heatable rays |
Ain’t it good to you? |
I’m a wise man, prophet of the bible |
You wanna try me, then I’m liable |
To go and flow and show, don’t you know |
Edgar Allan Poe, could not write like this |
Mysteries, with a twist |
And I insist, to uplift my metaphor |
Slice dice and write, and make the brain sore |
For, you and him |
I kill a rapper, then begin |
To wrote and smoke you’re chokin then provoke |
The joke the most, and walk around like notes |
Programmed, you’re equal to a dummy |
Them want rhyme? |
You do summies |
Backwards, forwards, sideways |
Anyway, I say hold it |
Now you’re in space, plus you’re folded |
Up, like molecules of matter |
Plus you scatter, you wish you had a |
Chance to shake, recuperate, recreate |
The brain cells, I have ate |
Scraped, soak em in solutions |
Like Benzine, iodine producin |
Student of Cee’s, tryin to be, just like me |
Ced Gee, the Ultramagnetic |
A scientist, skilled with knowledge |
Once a God, years of college |
Accumulated, my wisdom and wit |
Thoughts float, ideas are legit |
To fit, the rhythm of the tempo |
Also, the music more so |
Have to move groove soothe and lose you |
Now ain’t it good to you? |
Once again my rhyme blows up enemies |
Wack MC’s, across the nation on rotation |
You get the hype at the station |
Promotion, I put your brain in slow motion |
Like lotion, and let it float in the ocean |
Then I drown it, your brain begins to bubble |
I bring trouble, hang with Barney Rubble |
In Bedrock, and watch another head rock |
Go through West to Washington and Ced block |
The Avenue, passin you, bashin you |
In your face, rhymes are crashin you |
On the chrome dome, swellin your Astrodome |
You’re in an ambulance, I’m takin you home |
To complete the ways I’m on a mission |
I see your balls of clay with x-vision |
I’m a scientist, your satellites are weak |
They get dimmer every time I speak |
On my gyroscope you hope to seek the style |
That copacetically, bugs you out |
On the mic, Kool Keith in a spaceship |
Risin, not followin, plexin |
Muscle flexin, lyrics for connection |
Rhyme injection, rhythm perfection |
Brain selection, has protection |
My reflection, shines |
Triple times your eye, invisible |
I get by your brain |
Now ain’t it good to you? |
Aiyyo Keith, how you say? |
Just another Boogie Down Bronx Ultramagnetic sure shot |
Done at the Ultra lab of course |
Mixed at D&D with my man Andy |
Yo, we outta here |