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(feat. Etta James) |
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[Intro] |
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[Etta:] Drop it 'til your soul feel free... |
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[Jef:] Alright. |
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[Verse 1] |
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[Jef] |
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Yo man, give me that microphone and sit down |
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Cos a brother like me is known to get down |
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So get up from the rhyme and you'll find |
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It's designed to give sight to the blind and enlighten the mind |
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And the lines are arranged in a strange unorthodox style |
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That knocks you out the box and blocks the competition |
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On a mission, fishin' in an empty tank |
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Comin' up blank |
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Crank the drums up so I can hear it |
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And it sums up, the thumbs up on the lyrics |
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And I'm droppin' it |
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Heavy like lead...we're dumb, kid |
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Can you pick the perfect poet out the patch? |
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E he scratches, I make the words match |
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Try to catch up and you'll break your jaw |
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Don't laugh, I heard it happened before |
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Some sap said, "That nigga can't rap" |
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I had to pull back the trigger and cap |
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A full round of rhymes and aim for the head |
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Not to put it to bed, but instead |
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Pick his brains just like a psychiatrist |
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He had no idea that I could just |
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Mentally took the brother for bad |
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I just wanted to see what kinda knowledge he had |
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He wasn't too bright so I had to shed some light |
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And now me and the kid's alright |
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He heard 'Give It Here' and had no idea I get dumb |
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I be droppin' rhymes on drums... |
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[Etta] |
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Do it, do it, 'til your soul feel free |
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Do it, do it, 'til your soul feel free (hey, hey-hey) |
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Do it, do it, 'til your soul feel free |
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Yeah yeah, hey hey, hey |
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[I just wanna holler when my soul feel free now] |
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[Verse 2] |
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[Jef] |
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Made in Manhattan, bred in the Bronx, boy |
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I ain't no toy, I'll destroy |
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Any form of competitor |
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In the form of a predator |
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I'll stay ahead of the comp. one jump |
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I know where I'm goin', yo and where I'm from |
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I was taught to go for mine |
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Even if I had to throw for mine that's fine |
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But I left the neighbourhood |
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Just cos I came to Cali don't mean I went Hollywood |
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I'm still good and why shouldn't I kick it? |
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Stay awhile the freestyle is wicked |
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Rough and rugged, but it's not ragged |
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Cos it's not the way Def Jef does it |
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When I get in it I rhyme infinite |
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And that means forever |
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Whether obstacles in the way hinder |
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They bother me not a bit, cos hey |
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Small things are nothin' to a giant |
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When rappers get defiant |
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I ain't scared, I'm prepared |
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Within my realm no souls are spared |
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Don't try to read me, you'll be baffled |
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Before you test me you best be careful |
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Cos you have no idea where I'm comin' from |
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I be droppin' rhymes on drums... |
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[Etta] |
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Do it, do it, 'til your soul feel free |
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Do it, do it, 'til your soul feel free, (hey, hey-hey) |
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Do it, do it, 'til your soul feel free |
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Do it, do it, 'til your soul feel free |
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[Verse 3] |
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[Jef] |
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Like a bear not your ordinaire, call me a grizzly |
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Like a bee I'm bound to bust busy |
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Expressing all thoughts with the notion in positive mode |
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God offered the ride and I rode |
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Listeners riding along with the legend in motion |
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Yeah, you knew I had the potion |
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A pinch of pizzazz and a smidgen of sincere savvy |
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A funky beat, and what have we here? |
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Not a mere but a major |
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A flavour you savour so tasteful, so watch your behaviour |
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Yeah, dope is what I gave ya |
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But you don't smoke or sniff, this dope'll save ya |
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From suckers you've been subjected to |
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Listenin' to, I'll rescue you |
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S.O.S in effect with Def Jef and DJ Erick Vaan |
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Rockin' you on |
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Friend or foe I'll take you blow by blow |
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If you're a king then you know I'll overthrow |
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So please don't provoke me, this ain't no joke, see? |
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You feel pain by every stroke of the pen |
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I don't mean to be a jinx, but then |
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When you come against me your career's at an end |
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I'll attack with a rap that is apt to attract |
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Basic hip-hoppers cos basics are back |
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Oops, made a mistake, I'm in a daze |
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With me nothin's basic, let me rephrase |
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Wonderful words, adjectives and verbs |
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Nouns by the pound, superb speeches and slurs |
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Simply supplying a subtle suggestion |
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If you're selecting make me your selection |
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Upon completion of suckers deleted |
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The poet with soul will calmly be seated |
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Thinkin' "I'm good and you knew it" |
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Rhymes grow and flow so smooth like a fluid |
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Or liquid...with high liquidity |
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I'm turnin' rap to cash in a flash |
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But money's not the name of the game or my claim to fame |
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To make you rock is my one and only aim |
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There's no comparison to what I've become |
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I be droppin' rhymes on drums... |
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[Etta] |
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Do it, do it, 'til your soul feel free |
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Do it, do it, 'til your soul feel free, (hey, hey-hey) |
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Do it, do it, 'til your soul feel free |
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Do it, do it, 'til your soul feel free [Repeat to fade] |
