lirik lagu crazy 8s – re-education camp
yeah! big dog back in the
house! right about now, it’s
time for another round of crazy
8s! y’all know the rules. you got
8 bars per style, make it great, but pass the
h*rns and man ya too late. next up is
rec. y’all better bring it!
relax ya mind, let ya conscious be free
get down to the sound of the rec
comin’ with that h*i*p*h*o*p
that means beats and rhymes, man, dvs d*o*c
my flow be mowin’ over ya phony joe blow degrees
mental mobile, i’m global from underground to overseas
i tell ya to check my rep, ya still don’t go to see
ya keep tellin’ all these stories, but you don’t know me!
i came up between paid in full and moment of truth
when battlestars had bars like solid gold in the booth
man of letters, yeah i’m read, but these the tomes of my youth
used to spit so many rhymes it formed a foam on my tooth
we didn’t start the fire, but there’s one on the roof
america is gettin’ hairy, there’s tupees in my soup
ya doubtin’ everything about me while i’m countin’ my troops
flows too fast to capture, douse ya fire out, poof!
style so fresh, still got the seeds in it
quips so sick it got disease in it
not a free clinic, milk and honey got some bees in it
don’t debate the doc, he got degrees in it
woke ya from ya dream, but still wanna believe in it
smoke you and ya crew’s joints without the weed in it
so don’t call it a career until your fee’s in it
and don’t call it the camp ‘less it got me and z in it
dump trump in my trunk, make him listen to my ba*bump
‘til his next stump speech is guided by the funk, not a
chump, never had to wait for wednesday to hump, huh
this beat is bananas, we the best in the bunch
you wanna rumble, but you had some trouble takin’ a punch
you’ll be takin’ ya lumps while ya girl is shakin’ her rump
underoos in a bunch, huh, i challenged ya hunch, huh
i do my own scripts, s*x scenes, and stunts
when rappers stay on topic, they lose all their lyricism
forgot about their multiples, their rhymes and their rhythm
freestylin’ for days, not one nugget of wisdom
but check the v between the ds, see, my vision is a given
above the maladies, tragedies, cataclysms
habit to enrapture ya, exactly what i give ‘em
drew the line in ‘99 to accentuate the schism
‘til i’m riddin’ –isms from the hidden prisons with precision
if you’re on a “best” list, doc’ll eat ya for breakfast
rock ya solar plexus every time that he flexes
knock ya off quick, then cross ya off of my checklist
jonny is the nexus who connects you with freshness
just because ya rhymin’, man, don’t mean you respect this
ambidextrous, so my right’s what ya left with
professor got the message that the best never mess with
but the freshmen didn’t get it until after i exit
ya makin’ up ya data like you’re lyin’ on the censuses
ya messin’ with the best, you’ll be dealin’ with con*c*quences, it’s
a fact this cat is better man, this ain’t no jon pretentiousness
ya stupid dupes are duplicates like “grit” and conscientiousnesss
defense is just a fence, that’s how ya wanna wall your entrances?
my therapy convert you if you thinkin’ like the penceses
my guess is it’s offensive and you think i’ve lost my senses but
when z bring up that bass line, i just add my lines for emphasis
70’s melodies with them ’88 drums
90’s scratchin’, “ought” flows, content second to none
they sayin’ “doc, why don’t ya drop it all, and go make a run?”
but doc has got to be a prof, so i just do this for fun
wanna be “apart of” hip*hop, but your spellin’s too dumb
forgot the sp*ce between the a*p, means that you’re apart frommmmmmm
wanna knock me out, but ya tripped when ya swung
f.u., ya effed up, ya put the fu ‘fore the kung
veteran rapper lap ya, outdo you with just my so*so
they sayin’ jonny too fast, so go back and play in {slow*mo}
ladies love the mojo and keep askin’ for a photo
have dorothy stashin’ tracks inside her basket ‘stead of toto
peace to all the heads, and my man duke up in the dojo
me and z highly trained to zap your brain, check the logo
run this ‘til i’m outta gas and go back to sunoco
daryl jinks, babay, yo my sooooul glooooow!
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