Vanilla Ice - Hit'em Hard lyrics

Written by: vanilla ice, tha hit men, darryl delite Allamby, zero Produced by: vanilla ice & zero Published by: ice baby music, inc., dj zero music, inc., Oliver and cooley music publishing, bmi. Keyboards: darryl delite allamby Background vocals (rap): vanilla ice Mix by: vanilla ice Synchclavier engineer: robert wechsler Recorded & mixed at luminous studios, inc. Here comes the lyrical breakdown, Move out the way punk, and take a seat clown, It's the ice man slicin', dicin'. Hittin' like tyson. So listen to the rhythm i givin' em, My lyrics got the impact of a mac truck When i'm sendin' 'em Yo, my funky rhymes flow, Kickin it like psycho And i'm exploding like nitro-glis, Coming like a hurricane bliss, Straight sacking the track like a quarterback My man zero is back with a k**er slice, I'm blowin' up the mic, Ya damn right, vanilla ice With twice the punch, I put the crunch on marky And take the funky out of his bunch. I hit the home run You got to third base, son. I'm in first place, Take a seat clown for the beatdown. Uh, tonight's the night of the big fight, With the mic in my hand i got the grip tights. Ready to swing it like a louisville slugger, Right at the head of a s**a, Crack home run. How did it feel to have the mic hit ya dome, son? uh! I tried to make your head ring like a church bell. I put it on ya hard I'll make ya hurt well, Cuz you fell into my b**by traps No more good vibrations, I'm tired of your boots raps, So i eat ya like scooby snacks, An maybe roll you like a zig zag Or smoke you like a hootie mac, You did what i did, So you're gonna lose kid, Cuz to me you're still a new kid on the block Get off my jock, Get off my diznok Before you get dropped For the beatdown Yeh, this is the last verse, Should i say the last round. And its time i knock out another cla** clown. Sit down and take notes As vanilla kicks ballistics withdope lyrics, Oh waht a pity, though Cuz ya had to spend three million dollars on your video. It was video and i can admit that, All that money's wasted cuz your songs wacked, I make stuff to make the people gather. An' let 'em see us in a pit, I wanna slam dance with ya, hammer. Now can i kick it, of course i can. Yo, you will get burned out, then turned out. I'm gonna keep comin stong, song after song, Ya thought i'd fade, well ya did wrong. I'm the imperial threat for this sound fools. Ha ha, here comes the lyrical beatdown.