Abdominal - Rap Machine lyrics

[MC Abdominal & DJ Format, (*Samples*)] *He-Here's a rough jam for your phonograph ?* *Yes Yes Y'all* *Uh uh uh yeah!* *Bust that!* *Uh huuh!* *B-boy scratches, beats and rhymes* *Ladies and gentlemen* *In-Introducing* *Abdominal* *Sit and observe: The microphone mangler, MC Strangler* *Ladies and gentlemen, here is your host* [Abs:] Hit the ground munning, every movement calculated Lethal mechanism, complete with laser calibrated Precision Abdominal, streamline rap machine But no need for any gasoline I run clean fuelled by windpower An infinite resource, over coursed the valve on, too Voraciously like an asthmatic s**mwhale My breath the wind, my lung to sail The deep blue sees be this Format Beat, over which I maneuver over shores and reefs We direct on thymes Disrespecting times Stretchiiing lines (*Giving you a dope rhyme*) Is a bigger sting/big esteem inadequate to argue really gill the same as we're really happenin' here Calling this rapping milly, more captionatelly The ca**age of appearing on the display anew (*You know I'm saying?*) No, Format, there's dust on the wax (*The f**ing needle, clean it, now put it back*) *scratch* Ah, thanks for that, Matt, can't you see the ease With which we communicate seamlessly Need each other like milk and cereal (*Collaborating and make great material*) Cause flipping it accapella makes it a tschord of rap (*But I get hype when I write to a Format*) Beat, we come in tighter than venus flytraps (*Don't try to front, you know I got the fly raps*) Flyer than a parasinging parakeet wearing para-aviating goggles on his beak No lies, so fly when I flow by (*Some ask the question why?*) To which I have to reply, spoke nurturing nature: f**ing with Abs, you're flirting with danger Like Icarus flying too close to the sun (*Others hear me, and they don't want none*) Like DJ's: They get their wax as hot as their candles (*But you can't* *handle the Format* *Got more soul in their sandals*) And with samples: Move your spinal Check the way my madman handles the vinyl *Scratching* *s**er DJ's* *You ain't got the taste* *s**er DJ's* *Wha-Wh-What's this* *The king of Scratch* [2x] *Nuts, Abs DJ* *He's a turntable wizard and no other can match* [Abs:] Format on the two's and ones Mom's a' rappers are about to lose their sons Showing for the devastating conclusion But taking it sounds like seducing nuns Never happen a clever rapper now gone beat the plan (*Now sh**'s really gonna hit the fan*) We come in tighter than a hamster in the clutches of an under fence -snake (*and when it's over, you'll have a headache!*) Not to mention the gasp of a breath Cause the atmosphere when I rap is bereft Of oxygen rocking from the depths of my chest (*But if I got one breath left?*) I punch in with the rally that's d**h Conclude with the grand finalé, so fresh [Both]"Worldwide" Fat lady's will sing in unison B-boys will sally, turn the Puma's in DJ's 'll stop mixing and scratching, MC's will quit rapping The graphwriters will have to put the cans down You'll see smiles on previously sad clowns Lawyer's will stop prosecuting and defending male prostitutes 'll stop bending Professors will stop professing When Roman-Catholics will start confessing Top executives will stop executing Electrogears'll quit electrocuting Government'll stop collecting taxes The earth will stop spinning on it's axis Then short: When this rhyme's done It'll mean the last time's come So as we sink into the deep blue seas (*Fade down the beat and let the music cease!*)