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(feat. Odd Oberhiem) |
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[a kid] Ay Mister, aren't you a rapper, what's your name? |
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[Keith] Keith Korg, Analog Brothers, get out of here kid |
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[Ice O] Get off the man's dick man |
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[Ice O] Back the **** up you lil' mother****er, back the **** up! |
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[Keith Korg] |
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New York City from cyborg, Keith Korg |
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More flow than the average Joe, get off the stamina |
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Peein off the top of the Empire State Building, urinate on pedestrians |
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Walkin past West 4th Street lesbians |
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28th Street flashin drivin Dodge dashin free man |
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Sport Superman underoos with a six-pack of O'Douls |
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Move in sparkplugs, come aboard walkin butt naked with gloves |
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Throwin feces at celebrities at the Billboard Awards |
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Make Jerry Springer jump on my balls, take a recess |
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Kunta test stop your region like the X-Men, liberty legion |
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Got you sayin that's it, pull G strings out of old ladies like Angela Bassett |
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Warm up Swanson, jump over 7 foot rappers like David Thompson |
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With a bank shot like Alex English I get distinguished |
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Block rap like Joe C, Merriweather with a brown leather |
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Bald head like Sam [?] from Marquette, drivin a lime green Corvette |
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With a flat butt white girl like Pamela Anderson with a Chia Pet |
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Skatin on feces like Wayne Gretzky, yo forget the jazz and thin drums |
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Don Sylvester coulda killed my feet in Baltimore, Maryland |
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Or on the street standin next to Ben Grimm |
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from the Fantastic Four with a Stetson brim |
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Open your fossils, leave you constipated with bad meals at Roscoe's |
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Keith Korg, from cyborg |
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[Chorus: Ice Oscillator] |
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Now could this be the Analog techniques you heard of |
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Microphone murder, no win, the Ampex spins |
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Now could this be the Analog techniques you heard of |
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Microphone murder, no win, the Technic spins |
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[a kid] Ay, ay Mister, what's your name? Aren't you an Analog Brother? |
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[a kid] C-c can I be down? |
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[Silver Synth] |
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Sil Synth, yo back off kid |
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Now tap into the track enhances, feedback flanges |
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with a 90 percent delay.. delay.. |
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EQ technology in a multi-track recorders projectile |
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For phrases spit at the strike of lightning |
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To power amp rhymeologysts it's, sent to various temporal vortexes |
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Exiting all elements to supplement the decrease in programming |
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by choice, we choose to play Sega Saturn |
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at the roundtable of the time travelling Rolls Royce |
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To represent an ill visual, we select the "gee whiz" factor |
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Interfacing advanced sound links, fully functional hardware |
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specializing in features simultaneously optical |
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Visually connects the console to poetics on ADAT |
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Combination of analog equipped with a 3-band dynamic playback |
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Engineered by Sil Synth |
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Processing instantaneous controls, spontaneously edits all algorithms |
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And allows the physical antenna to rise like musical steam |
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Scan it to analyze the defrost mode on icicle power cords |
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By amplified the winning conductor of illogical harmonics |
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To scruitinze Sil Synth, the ventriloquist |
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With a hundred watts of phonics, to skip phonetic fact on format zero |
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Eliminating any excess rigidity, the puzzle solver, mainframe a solution |
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Maintain spit range reflections at high resolutions |
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Further disintergrating defractions guaranteed |
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Serialized 20K printouts lifesize |
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Then the endless intelligent autopress simulator [?] itself |
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to walk to the next verse |
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[Keith] Yo, gimme a lil' more of that |
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[a kid] Ay, Sil, can I rap? |
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[Keith Korg] |
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I move the mechanical elements while y'all, light sherm |
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Scope elephants, bacterial feedback, watchin Toto sing in t-backs |
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With fantasies of me hittin tight cracks |
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While Tommy laughs |
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[a kid] Keith, Keith Korg, Keith Korg (alright man go ahead) |
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[a kid] Can I rap? (go ahead) |
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[Odd Oberheim] |
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Step back, into, two inches of steel |
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The only real, that I speak of, on this here |
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Doubling down no dub, first rhyme |
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One take Jake to hear Snake that claim on top |
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of the universe with the flag saying I brag |
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Kick back and relax, don't lag |
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Might be misconstrued, sometimes make oil like crude |
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and get slick, I'll split your crews |
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like a pap smear with a 2x4 stick |
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Coming through your galactic, to perspectives not seen before |
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Inside the membrane when the spectrum, insane explodes |
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with supernova power coming to you in the shower |
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The meteorites, splitting your whole world apart as everybody fights |
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for the last bit of barbaric food to eat |
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To relax, pull up my sleeves, and start to rhyme with ease |
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[Keith] Yo we the Analog Brothers kid |
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[Keith] Get out of here white boy, close the door |
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[Keith] Hurry up, security's coming |
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[Chorus x4: with beatdown in the background] |
