Bronx Style Bob - What Ya Wanna Do? lyrics

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Bronx Style Bob - What Ya Wanna Do? lyrics

Party! (Okay party people in the house) --] MC Ricky D/Slick Rick [ INTRO: Ice-T ] Yo yo, in the place to be My name is MC Ice-T I got the Rhyme Syndicate with me We about to tear stuff up, y'all feel good? Yo, what the hell y'all wanna do, Syndicate, tonight, what you wanna do? (Party!) Randy Mac in the place to be, what you wanna do? (Party!) Nat The Cat, you're in the house tonight, what you wanna do? (Party!) Donald-D is in the place to be, what you wanna do? (Party!) Bronx Style Bob is in the house, what you wanna do? (Party!) Hen-Gee is in the house, what you wanna do, homeboy? (Party!) My man Shaquel is in the place to be, what you wanna do? (Party!) Yo, Toddy Tee is in the house tonight, what you wanna do? (Party!) Yo, Everlast is in the house, come on, what you wanna do? (Party!) And MC Taste is in the place to be, what you wanna do? (Party!) My man Divine is in the house, what you wanna do, homeboy? (Party!) Yo yo, I'm about to kick this party up, is that alright? [ ROUND 1: Ice-T ] Yo, Yo, MC Ice on a Syndicate Rhyme spree You say you wanna be down, you gotta talk to me You wanna get in? Put a s**er's head out Sound a little hot for you, boy? Then, toy, get out Syndicate mob ain't nothin but hardened crooks You try to diss, your bu*t is on a meat hook Want some of me? You're on a mission Bad move, you end up missin [ ROUND 1: Randy Mac ] Let's get it straight for the '89 tip Randy Mac is clockin a stupid grip On the party track I'm cold lampin But when the Syndicate rolls I be jackin You thought I fell off, I ain't even slipped The Mac is cuttin records and punks are gettin ripped Gangster I am, bust the lyrics like a drive-by You wanna sleep? Well, it's lights out, beddy-bye [ ROUND 1: Nat The Cat ] Notorious Asiatic, tough, talented A power entertainer Catapultin above the top Nat The Cat, too swift to be stopped I'm like Jordan, a team player on a solo flight Lookin down on MC's faces full of fright and fear I slam dunk a rap through their ear to hear Eureka! I just struck a platinum fame In the game things'll never be the same Because money changes everything [ ROUND 1: Donald D ] Once again comin at you hyper Donald D the Syndicate Sniper Boston Strangler, Charles Manson No matter what k**er I mention, keep dancin _Five Fingers Of d**h_, _Fists Of Fury_ St. Valentine's Day Ma**acre on a jury Wanna convict me for kickin black on wax I walk the street with a battle axe [ ROUND 1: Bronx Style Bob ] Life ain't nothin but a piece of existence Cause when you die, you'se a past tense So I like to live my life like a big carnival Get drunk, act like an animal I like the rock'n rolll, the funk, the jazz and hip-hop s**ers get loud, I drop em I like ( ? ) Fab Five I'm Bronx Bob, bring the beats and I'm live [ ROUND 1: Hen-Gee ] Black stallion, knockin on concrete walls Standin tall, rappers in my face, they stall Stutter, softer than melted bu*ter There's no other word, go ask your mother Hard solid as your city ( ? ) Born in Brooklyn, can tell by the way that I walk and talk Strollin with a slight limp Flyer than any big city pimp [ ROUND 1: Shaquel Shabazz ] Gold, girls, cold cash On the mic Shaquel Shabazz Supreme, the Lord, the G-o-d Down with the Syndicate posse It's you we rule without a tool Mathematics in effect, it's time to school I'm the principal and knowledge is the key Shaquel in the place to be [ ROUND 1: Toddy Tee ] I climb a mountain top with just one rope Get to the top of the stairs and say a rhyme that's dope Cause I'm a cliffhanger, no, I ain't a stranger Yo, I'm Toddy Tee, and I'm a Compton banger Wanted by the F.B.I. for transport of s**er MC's across the Syndicate borders No, they can't give me no time, cause it's my rhyme Everlast, get funky for me one time [ ROUND 1: Everlast ] Everlast is in effect gettin big respect Then I collect big checks 1's, 5's, 10's and 20's A 100 g's and I'm pullin honeys Left and right, day and night You gotta see it to believe it, it's quite a sight They're all on the tip to get a sip Of this poetic performer that's fully equipped [ ROUND 1: MC Taste ] Y'all played yourselves right in front of the mic Moved your body so that the feelin was right But if you get lost scream out and admit That the beat's too fast, slow it down or I quit I'm not the kind to give you a call To stop on a rap that I lead, so I pause I give you 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 If that ain't enough, sit down till we're done [ ROUND 1: Divine Styler ] Syndicate scorned, you act obedient Tired of your fish rhyme ( ? ) ingredients Black on black while styles ( ? ) ( ? ) of brothers that's gotta be Circlin cyphers into molecules Takin over your space, that's illogical The vocal chords on a board with 24 tracks Get away from the break ( ? ) gotta rap [ ROUND 2: Ice-T ] Syndicate posse growin, goin out of control You say we're weak? This record's shippin gold Power, strength, my posse got unity We stick together and we're soon to be In your town, we gonna bring the roof down Ice-T and the syndicate underground No sell-outs, cause it's caps we peelin Girls we love em, and shows we steal em [ ROUND 2: Randy Mac ] Knowledge and wisdom, it's a mystery I drop science for the ones who know it's me You say I'm dope, cool, it makes sense I ain't conceited, I'm just convinced Strapped for the attack Randy Mac is rollin The mic, the mixer, then the show is stolen The pimp, the player, hustler a** kicker Watch your girl, cause I stick her [ ROUND 2: Nat The Cat ] Nat The Cat, my man will rap when I'm playin the back Some think my stage presence is low, I think it's loud Enough to see me flowin and showin Go psycho breakin backs like bolo Give me the mic, a metamorphis ignite I break down on a cat stand, I k** ya like a hitman And come out kickin with the ( ? ) Rockin on a rappin rampage In control of the stage [ ROUND 2: Donald D ] There's a mouse in my house, so I bought a cat The cat ran away, so now there's a rat I'm on the attack with my baseball bat That one rat brought many others back All through my house I set up traps It seem like the rats have a map But nowadays I don't know how to act So now I feed the rats crack [ ROUND 2: Bronx Style Bob ] Back and I'm statin the fact I know you're waitin for a rap To make you get up and start to clap For Bob, a Bronx ( ? ) Syndicate style More bounce to the ounce and trizzy to the file '79 the time I was inclined To get smooth and prove that I can rock a funk rhyme Hey yo, ice-cube chillin Cause we got the gats and knack to see the kids top billin [ ROUND 2: Hen-Gee ] Impressionalist, not a ventriloquist Don't hang out with s**ers worth less than piss s**ers can all come kiss the tip Of my nine when I aim I don't miss Aim it to s**ers that come around jockin On my tip when on the radio my records be rockin Don't come frontin askin me for a pound If y'all ain't invited means you simply ain't down [ ROUND 2: Shaquel Shabazz ] Wake up it's time to be noticed I'mma do this, I'm gonna show this Beat to be mathematical Syndicate's in the house, let's get radical Bum rush the show and grab the mic Syndicate's chilllin out tonight They let me loose and now it's war Bust the mix and let the rhymes roar [ ROUND 2: Toddy Tee ] Grab a partner and hit the dancefloor Cause I'm back to rock for you once more I don't worry about what he said or she said As long as what's said-said is done-done in my bed The Juvenile Committee's on my side And I'm kickin knowledge on a natural high And I'm feeling strong Yo, take this mic and get the party on [ ROUND 2: Everlast ] This is mortal combat, there ain't no comeback You're tryin to get with me but you don't know where I'm at Cause in this world there's no bombs or guns Just a microphone, metaphors, words and puns Sentences and phrases, no clubs or razors No mercy for a s**er that wages War, I'll take the floor, even the score Grab the microphone and proceed to roar [ ROUND 2: MC Taste ] Are y'all set, all prepared to start Move in close cause here comes the dope part By the way, I'm the Taste, if tracks Could talk but they - but here go the facts Brace yourself, you shoulda grabbed a grip Protect your clan cause we're about to trip Ba** reflex, the kicks that drive, divide The weak from the rest ( ? ) can't survive [ ROUND 2: Divine Styler ] Syndicate's housin all competition We paralyze a physical powerful vision But savage ignorants pop that's ignorant listen Divine is ( ? ) no time for style And I rock your grey matter with a smile Cause I'm the rhyme thriller with dimensions of flavor The knack - stylistic black [ ROUND 2: Ice-T ] The reason we're bustin these raps are what? To make all you wack MC's shut up You're always buyin rap records jammin def beats Then dissin rap artists out in the streets You always say our jams are wack but yours'll be tight But you never been near a studio in your life You see, disrespect is your last resort You're like Howard Cosell, you never played this sport But you're always talkin mess bout how it should be done And when we ask to hear your record you never made one So this message goes to amateurs and pros alike We're the MC's that cold be doggin the mic You may be good but there's no one better We rock you so cold, you need a cashmere sweater Fight dirty in the pit when combat is on We always attack before attacked upon [ OUTRO: Ice-T ] Yeah, Rhyme Syndicate, we in here We tossin it up I got my man Everlast in the house Tossin it up, youknowwhatimsayin Kid Jazz and Bango couldn't be here But we gon' to' it up for them anyhow Wherever you are you're a star Rhyme Syndicate blowin up like napalm I got my man Chilly Dee deejayin on the set And the one and only DJ Evil-E, we in here Yo, we outta here like last year Rhyme Syndicate We gotta do it like the alphabet and a-b-c ya Yeah [ Everlast ] Everlast Everlast in full effect Where's my gold record? Where's my record? Where's my record? [ Divine Styler ] Divine Styler with Physical Poets, look out [ Donald D ] Microphone King Donald D the notorious, yeah [ Bronx Style Bob ] This is Bronx Style Bob... [ Ice-T ] Nat The Cat, boy [ Randy Mac ] Randy Mac One in a million on your back, boy [ Ice-T ] Yo So we bout to get outta here Seems like the police is outside, man (Yo Ice, man, they got King Tee, Aladdin and Islam) What, the police, man? I knew somethin had happened I was wonderin why King Tee missed the party, man Yo Randy Mac, you got some money? (Aw, you know what time it is, man I got...) Yeah, for some bail, buddy We got to go do some work, man...

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