| One two, one two
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| Ultramagnetic’s in full effect
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| We talkin' about givin' the drummer some
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| You know what, Kool Keith, yo, tell 'em what’s on your mind
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| I’m ready
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| And now it’s my turn to build
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| Uplift, get swift, then drift
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| Off… and do my own thing
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| Switch up
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| Change my pitch up
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| Smack my bitch up, like a pimp
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| For any rapper who attempt to wear Troop’s
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| And step on my path
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| I’m willing as a A-1 General
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| Rhyme Enforcer 235 on a rhyme test
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| Whatever group or vest in line
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| I put 'em all behind
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| Play MC Ultra as a warning sign of my
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| Skill, and what my mind deserves
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| I smell a grape in the duck preserves
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| And who deserves the right to be king of the screen
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| And shout wack poetry
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| What, are you buggin'
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| Germs that want to law me
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| Quit it, before I heat your ear off
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| Let your burn deduct another year off rappin'
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| For a face I’m slappin'
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| Gimme applause when hands start clappin'
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| Now give the drummer some
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| Well I’m Ced
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| The Rhyming Force Delta
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| When I enter, you best take shelter
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| Cuz I’m dope, and yes I will melt a
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| Anyone who tried to even felt a
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| Emotion, or thought that they could hang with me
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| I cut you up, because you are my enemy
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| On my stage, interfering with my radius
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| So step back, cuz I’mma start to spray with this
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| Can, of Raid Spray
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| If you’re a germ, filthy like AIDS, I’ll
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| Clean, you up with heat
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| Vapors, scrubbin' and scrubbing
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| Like a mistake on paper, I’m rubbin'
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| Erasin' you out like some ink
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| Cuz you dirty, your rhymes are stink
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| Like garbage, I hafta put you in a Hefty
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| Or instead, should I just let thee
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| Weak MC’s accumulate like dust
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| Take out my duster, shine them up and
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| Teach… them respect
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| Hook 'em up just like a tape deck
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| Mono or Stereo, cuz I’m a real pro
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| With a cameo, and not an afro
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| This beat is funky, I’m not a nympho
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| You know why?
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| Then give the drummer some
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| Some rappers are ratin' us
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| Some are hatin' us
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| Some are talkin'
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| Some debatin' us
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| Critically, but physically my mind is
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| Self-taught like a rap pro designed us
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| A matter to burn MC’s and toys with
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| Flame, 500 degrees of
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| Rhymes, that heat and cook and
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| Sizzle, your brain is on the grill at
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| Nighttime, and what about the daytime
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| I hear the wack ones, they get a lot of playtime
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| Saying they’re wack and wastin' my airtime
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| You’re #2 and next in my spare time
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| Another rhyme has to be controllin'
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| And for your brain, it must have been stolen
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| Tookin', yes, taken away
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| I’m on the court, and I’m fading away with a
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| Jumper, I shoot a rhyme in your face
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| Add the points while I rob the bass
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| Incredible, come in three dimensions
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| Parallel with the funky extensions
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| I’m Kool Keith runnin' rap conventions on
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| Time
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| Now give the drummer some |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Give the Drummer Some , by - Ultramagnetic MC's. Song from the album Critical Beatdown (Re-Issue), in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп