| Now we’re the Ultramagnetic
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| Strung out on a mission
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| Did twenty-four tracks
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| Our rhymes to serve as bait
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| On the Red Alert show
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| Fresh and on the go Dominating other cats
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| With the brains to please
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| Playin it Saturday’s, yes and always
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| In control
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| of the beat, to make you move your feet
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| and give you bait
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| Yesssssss…
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| Kool Keith!
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| With a? |
| aligned fade, Technic 1200's
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| are combined to rotate, swiftly left to right
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| On the mix, Red Alert, controlled by gamma light
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| Ninety-eight point seven, KISS upon the label
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| of the record that he’s holding beside a wooden table
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| I am able to MC, by testing musically
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| through a caliber of rhymes arranged and wrote by me As an artist and composer, the style I have supposed to be made for soft ducks and pushed by bulldogs
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| Step to the side words glide, for me and then collide
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| like a demolition derby, punks I will be smashin
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| With a sign to amuse, words will keep on crashin
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| Very hazardous vocab, impeachin Kool Keith
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| Givin bait!
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| Greg Nice!
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| Yesssssss…
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| Ced Gee.
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| Now with the temperature rising, the beat, is just driving
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| The wizard on the mic, is fully emphasizing
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| Red Alert, goes bezerk, make you jump and jerk
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| Hydroplayin relayin decayin, and it work
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| Every second captivating, your mind, body and soul
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| As the chairman of the board, hip-hop, and just totally
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| set to protect, send right, or do reset
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| every sucker in the way, no stoppin East and West
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| Best gradius remains, with more, I have a fade
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| that’ll stay to amaze, for weeks, and many days
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| on the mic I’m always ready, my job, is set to stay
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| For the Ultramagnetic, Ced Gee, I devestate
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| With Moe Love and Kool Keith, we stop, annihilate
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| and give you bait!
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| Ah Greg Nice!
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| Yesssssss…
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| DJ Moe Love. |
| ah just hit me!
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| What’s his name umm, Kool Keith
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| Well I’m fresh out the pack, back to let you know
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| When the light turn green it’s time for Red to go On the mix to advance, reachin higher levels
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| Through his books of magic cool, the wizard of tricks
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| Red Alert’s non-stop, while heads stop to bop
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| to the beat you will listen, turn the dial to KISS
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| Cause I’m steady beatin toys, ballin up my fists
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| Punchin every MC, directly in the brain
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| I’m killing, willing scheme and just chilling
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| like a mad scientist to punks I will be ILLING!
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| MUTILATING! |
| More out of turn
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| Choppin up every germ, I’m the wizard Kool Keith
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| givin bait!
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| Yesssssss…
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| Real. |
| lousy competition, a task, to ignore
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| Incantation to the norm, affecting attitude
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| While we rising through creating, thoughts or premonitions
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| which allows conversation, between the controls
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| Stimulating Ultra drive, is boosted to the max
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| as my lyrics blow your BRAINS, you can’t
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| comprehend the formulas, expressed, to relate
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| and vexed, scientific, form, to create
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| parallel philosophies, UNIVERSAL QUESTIONS
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| In a second you fester and learnin, new lessons
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| from the wizard scientist, known as Ced Gee
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| Takin time to dictate, to judge, affiliate
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| and give you bait!
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| Beatbox Greg Nice!
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| Yesssssss…
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| Ah Red Alert
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| Yesssssss…
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| Kevvy Kev
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| Boogie Down Productions
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| Yesssssss… |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Bait , by - Ultramagnetic MC's. Song from the album Critical Beatdown (Re-Issue), in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп