Epmd - Knick Knack Patty Wack Lyrics
[erick sermon]Yo, and special guests on my showIs the k[k-solo]To the s to the o-l-o[parrish smith]And me, the capital d, the o to cThe a.k.a., the p the m the d[erick sermon]And me, the e to the d to the oTo the u to the b to the l to the e[k-solo]Its time p[parrish smith]To rip the m the I to c[erick sermon]So knick knack paddy wack give a dog a boneK-solo (yo) I pass p the microphone[parrish smith]Nah black (why p? ) to each his ownSo knick knack paddy wack give the dog a boneAiyyo, I pass e the microphone[erick sermon]Its me, yes the mc grand royalWho loves rappin, and to it I stay loyalI cant tell, you aint caught up in my spellYou dwell on the other crab mcs that fellApart from the start, that didnt know the artOf rappin, to keep the peoples hands clappinBut its me, I know the way it should beThe flow slow, like me and pmdAnd that black, will make you real fatA real swinger, and a real cool catLike a jazz player, or someone on the accordionProducing crazy hits like, if I was barry gordyHeres a tip, to show you how to ripA crab in half, and watch his posse flipSo me, the e, I come equippedHeavy ammunition, so I dont have to dipSo listen, to this funky fresh lessonThe way I drop it, and the way that I was flexinSo knick knack paddy wack give a dog a bonePmd (yo) I pass solo the microphone[k-solo]Yo I pass (why solo? ) to each his ownYo knick knack paddy wack give a dog a boneYo, I pass p the microphone[parrish smith]As I take the stage, with the fresh dipped gearI start to show off, with throw your hands in the airBecause the older I get, the harder I kickUsin my rap-fu style from a rap-fu flickOf my bic oh shit another mcs litLike a jack-o-lantern, on the halloween tipCause as the bass thumps, ? ? meters peaksAll pens and pads are drawn, as the teacher speaksBecause a naughty rapper, tried to steal the flowBut the buck stops here, cause ima let you knowNo swingin, or knuckles, strictly ammoCause as I dust bust, crush, and then rushA sucker new jack, with no ifs ands or butsYou roll with the good times, we like to roll with rushI drive a ratti (I drives a benz) you ride the busSo get out the mustard crab, because its time to catch-upAnd in the act of war, p refuse to let upOn a gonna-be, wanna-be, soon-to-be, whatevers cleverIn any type of weather, cause two birds of a featherAlways flock togetherSo knick knack paddy wack give the dog a boneK-solo, I pass e the microphone[erick sermon]I pass (why e? to each his own)So knick knack paddy wack give a dog a boneAiyyo, I pass solo the microphone[k-solo]Yo, my styles aggressive, like a pit bull terrierHarder it sounds on wax, the more the merrierMaestro though, releases beats for meSo I can rig up a hit and get paid easilyPeople, gather round listen to flowYo, so I can prove, that Im the true soloToo many suckers, have bit my name in vainPunk rappers thought I was sleepin, but solo cameTo so many places, other rappers facesThat called theirself solo, I made em erase itIm solo, no name lender or pretenderYo, I am the solo the on-ly solo contenderDuck mcs, grab my name and bit it boldlyPut it behind they name and ate this up like ravioliI heard on kiss, with red alert and chuckA rapper said he went solo, I said, what the *****? ? !My man came over, and said, yo, I thought we heard youJokes on you you heard a bitin ass crewThey bit my name, I want it back, and its a factYo pmd tell em (damn you shouldnta did that)Now for the record, what do I stand forOne lonely rapper on the stage, who gets one, single applauseGive me a break my brotherMy name stands for kevin self, organization left othersMy names no game for those who claim to use my nameIn vain cause their name sounds plainI remain the same, my flow of style wont change yoThe name of the game is for the real solo to explainI dont know was where you ran or cameI know your vein I hate your nameYoure ashamed, playin the game that drove you insaneThat walk around puddles, snow and the rainWith a cane, nothin to gain but shameAnd my momentum of the fast flow of rhymell get em tamedThe pain of no fame, no title again, nobody but the realK-s-o-l-o to blameWhen I s-p-e, l-l, very w-e, l-lPeople all out there can t-e-l-lRhymes that I got, or write will s-e-l-lFor those who dont believe me, can go to h-e-l-lIm from c-i, l-i, f-l-yLike a b-r-i-d, in the s-k-yDont even t-o-y to be dats whyL-i-n-es belong to m-i-n-eIm makin veche, some rappers imitateYo f*ck it, solo heres to make parties swayPeople, I wont take any kind of lossesBattlin rappers grabbin the mic and usin resourcesLike household utensils, kitchen appliances...
