Go to the Princess Superstar home page news photos discography dj press shows message forum audio and video lyrics order home


LYRICS

  • My Machine
  • Princess Superstar Is
  • Last of the Great 20th Century Composers
  • CEO
  • Strictly Platinum
  • Singles

  • Princess Superstar Is Lyrics

     
    Super Fantasy
    (C. Kirschner, C. Webster)
    Produced by Curtis Curtis for The Vertical Corporation (BMI). Additional Production by Concetta Kirschner for Concetta Music (BMI). Bass by Walter Sipser.

    Golden Keys, cash on trees, raining men its all for me geez
    Everyone here got the name C wow they all like bowin to me- I must be the King C
    Feelin super Oompa Loopa boomin in my jeep damn sweet super duper
    10 washing machines 10 jeeps on auction for me 10 peeps to wash it for me
    Come this winter nobody shiver good swimmer get in my chocolate river
    Give me a kiss I'm a magic princess Wonder Woman shoot shit out my wrist
    This here is bliss everyone's sexy no more acne or Gap khakis
    I can solve all your problems just ask me and here all my black friends can get taxis
    Sparkle all my records gone Plat -I take it back, ain't no Billboard where I'm at
    Take a second I grab bad thought and wreck it check out my magic record
    Get a massage 10 car garage livin type large oh wait there's no more cars
    Fix the air for kicks this chicks in charge pick 6 Knicks tix free of charge
    Neck and neck deck to deck equal sex
    Best protect--nothin--ain't nothin more to protect
    No Smack no more attacks Mickey Mouse got our mutherfuckin backs
    No ice just wax, no tax just spice, damn we feel nice
    No roaches or mice just coaches and kites comfy sofas and Sprites
    Everyone lives life how they like
    This this here is dynamite

    Back to Top

     
    Bad Babysitter (feat. High & Mighty)
    (C. Kirschner, E. Meltzer, M. Berger)
    Produced by DJ Mighty Mi for Eastern Conference Productions. Eonic Verbal Tunes (BMI), 1972unes (BMI), Figs.D Music, Inc. (BMI)/Budde Music c/o The Bicycle Music Company. Concetta Music (BMI).

    Babysitting sucks but whatever they got junk food, kung fu, egg fu, Dig Dug, a dog too
    And a hot Jew, Mr. Weintraub, I mean he's old but not dimed out
    If I'm bad I'll turn around in the corner for Time Out
    Aight Josh what you wanna do? You wanna watch cartoons?
    HBO got Platoon, hey get back in the room!
    I assume your folks are gonna be out late, go make me Kool Aid
    I'm a sit on the couch and masturbate then call my boyfriend Gabe and see if he ate
    Spit out my Bubbalicious and get to one of them big fridges that could fit 10 midgets
    Damn they're rich, hey she left me fifty dishes-bitch!
    Let's try on ya mom's minks think she'll miss these Chanel links?
    In high heels you look like Jar Jar Binks- go play under the sink
    (I want my mommy and daddy!) I want your daddy as well
    But if you tell, you'll die of sickle cell and God told me you're goin straight to hell
    Well if you don't like it I can leave and then you'll be alone believe me that's what the creepy monsters want
    Plus I'll be taking your TV
    Put on your jammers and don't wet the bed I got a camera
    I'll take a picture and show that little girl you like Sarah
    Oh and one more thing- there's been several mass murderers spotted in the area
    I'm a bad babysitter, got my boyfriend in your shower, Woo! I'm makin 6 bucks an hour
    Let's make Fluffernutters don't fuckin utter another peep
    I'll take the cookie cutter make star cookies outta ya skin while you sleep
    Keep still, I gotta check the bathroom cabinet hey what are these pills?
    I'll take the Valium Josh you take a bag and the Tagament
    Stop throwin up I'm not paid enough you clean up the rug
    Is that Fluff? I told you 6 boxes of unmade Jell-O was too much All right kid you gotta go to bed, I know its only 6 but my boy just came over and he wants me to give him head
    Sit his bare ass on the couch where you watch Small Wonder
    Next time you see Vicky the spot'll be sticky cuz I sucked his dicky and used your mom's cucumber
    Don't worry I'll put it back in the Frigidaire
    Scared? You can have it for supper nice and crisp in the Tupperware
    No bedtime story, Gabe get off you're so horny!
    Josh get in bed and Freddie Krueger might let you see your mom in the mornin
    No porn and shut the shade Gabe-
    One day you'll know how nice it is to get laid while you gettin paid

    Back to Top

     
    Keith 'N Me (feat. Kool Keith)
    (C. Kirschner, K. Thornton, Dart LA) Produced by Dart LA for Alkali Inc. Reverend Tom Music (ASCAP)/Kohaw Music (ASCAP), Inc./Notting Hill Music c/o The Bicycle Music Company. Concetta Music (BMI).

    (Keith's rhyme)
    Baby, can you feel my love?
    I got my shorts on-
    And I'm taking them off
    Now when I saw your face I'm a believer
    Hey what you got the keys to my Beamer
    A keeper get the fever viva end receiver
    Oochie Wally Wally leave it to my Beaver
    Take a big sip and inhale, you tip the scale
    If this rap game don't work out baby you cut for Chippendales
    I got my nails done for this special day, Oil of Olay
    Case of Criss in piss in the bidet I'm Miss rappin Jon Benet
    Big hunk blowin spunk in the back of the top bunk
    Slam dunk Daft Punk's voice box in the water kerplunk
    Get krunk forget Clyde and Bonnie Ted Bundy and Peg Bundy Burt and Loni
    Nancy and Ronnie Betty and Barney smokin mariwanni, I'm a little horny
    On and on a common bond two vagabonds in Vuitton
    Eatin Cinnebons at a mall on Mars where we belong
    Arm in arm naked making spawn at the salad bar get salad tongs deliver our new baby born
    Wait something's wrong, I gotta call my moms tell her Keith's on my song
    Ultramagnetic you helped my headache like a music paramedic you mad athletic there I said it
    I'm older now, Come 'n get it
    We're like Doin it and Doin it well, So poetic
    (Keith's rhyme)
    You and me like ET and Drew Barrymore
    Pick Reese's Pieces off your piece I want to marry more Keith
    You'll be comin soon…to a theatre near me
    Veni Vidi Veni Veni-I came I saw I came and I came again that's three
    (Keith's rhyme)
    I think about you and the things you say when you rhyme
    Won't beat around the bush so you can beat around mine
    I'm a Slinky, coil my butt back and forth down the stair I'm kinkier than pubic hair

    Back to Top

     
    We Got Panache
    (C. Kirschner, Ghetalion)
    Produced by Ghetalion. Additional Production by Concetta Kirschner for Concetta Music (BMI). Bass by Walter Sipser. Cuts by Sinista.

    You know we got panache
    Style, sass, gettin mad cash keepin it under wraps
    Pizazz and class we sit in the back
    Spendin mad cash money money and we real bad ass
    You know we got panache style, sass
    Gettin mad ass keepin it under glass
    Pizazz and class we kiss in the back
    Spittin mad trash honey honey and we real bad ass
    You know we got panache we gettin mad cash
    Paid a dime a second like Diamond Dave and Damon Dash
    I spit sonic gas classy psychopath psychotic iconoclast I got an iconic ass
    It's ironic how erotic my robotic sonnets get girls in bonnets hot like Harry Connicks
    Sick on gin and tonics we super sonic hook you on our phonics
    Learned Ebonics by erotic ebony dick and Mantronix
    Never stoppin it sock electronic shit allotted the whole club up when we spotted it
    And if we wanted it fill it with men and spawn and shit
    Ain't nothing wrong with it lets get the party started shit let's get it on and hit
    High ballin cat callin no alcohol yo we all suck on a straw
    A certain Je ne sais quoi at the bar I hit it raw never do look back unless we like what we saw
    Never do look back OK papa?

    On the case like Steve Case estates like Oprah's place
    Savoir faire and grace every hair in place here's a taste no time to waste
    Do my makeup in the mirror while I sit up on your face
    We paid great and when we don't got dates dig in the crates eat steak and masturbate
    Spin wax make tracks we laid laid back, ladies get laid and stay up late at that
    Now we getting critical mass sass pinnacle like the citadel not minimal we hospitable
    Mad kissable it's difficult aristicral princess for instance we invincible never divisible make you invisible
    Kit in each car Kittens with Kit Kat bars kickin etiquette from Connecticut to Zanzibar
    Strip malls to big balls 'n concert halls New York Dolls taggin up bathroom stalls
    We All-Stars make folly North down to Raleigh
    Follow me suck lollys down in Bali all enthralled dollies arty as Dali
    And when Mr. Rodgers calls me-
    We allowed on his trolley

    Back to Top

     
    You Get Mad at Napster
    (C. Kirschner)
    Produced by Concetta Kirschner for Concetta Music (BMI). Additional Production by Curtis Curtis for The Vertical Corporation (BMI). Live drums by Lee Farber. Guitar by Curtis Curtis.

    Please don't mess with me I'll spit you out like you were Sunny D
    Did you really think you could be mean baby? Listen this next part is key,
    You play a lot of Nintendo, smoke Endo
    As far as men go, when ya gonna hit a crescendo and throw Super Mario and Atari out the window?
    Now, we have something in common-You're lactose intolerant I'm wack host intolerant
    Stop talkin about smackin crack hoes you're in college apologies accepted
    I might have left lyrical holes in your mind
    You'll fill it later with Cable or Hot 97 or Taco-Bell-n applyin, you wanna play? Fine
    Play-doh, roll you through a machine until you come out in little strings
    I'm obscene I really could eat like 5 Krispy Kremes
    Like when they're hot-Like all my tracks are hot
    I'm hot, I'm hot, I'm hot, I'm hot, I'm hot, I'm hot, I'm hot, I'm hot-Like all my tracks are hot
    Stop going on AOL chat to try to find friends, yeah everyone likes you because you said you were tall, slim and
    Liked Dre over Ren, Cage over Em, Rage over them, Bahamadia over Lil' Kim
    I had no idea you been down with hip-hop since you were ten
    You were out ya playpen rubbin Barbie all over Ken and marveling over your carving
    Of Led Zeppelin in your desk in ya den
    I'm hittin mad skins you got bad skin get rad skins for your MP3 player kid I'm a Real Player!
    Hard like Slayer while you a dater with Darth Vader I'm famous-later-
    I hang with both Ralph Nader and Roc Raida, OK?
    I swear I'm super you play boring Solitaire on your computer combed over hair
    Wear a boober shirt work at Hooters in your underwear look like Mr. Hooper I don't care
    I was nice to you originally what I'm doin is gonna ruin you like Druid ruins hear the crowd booin naturally
    Actually this is a big 'ol waste of my time
    I would rather be home playing with my parakeets than making up this stupid rhyme
    I mean, I am a sensitive Pisces and I wouldn't want to make you start cryin-Yeah start cryin
    You get mad at Napster when nobody's even heard of you
    I did a search on your name and came up with 1 result-
    It was your computer, you're a loser
    Lame, your screen name pseudo hip-hop sounding lingo mixed up lowercase/capital letters
    What you think this is Bingo? I got singles out already
    People know my name in discerning circles from New York to LA
    While you earn Colonels jerk pay spurt on dirty curtains in a big shirt singin Hip Hop Hooray
    You're idle I'm an idol you're not entitled I got a title
    Nobody trades your file chill child when I said I liked you I was just tired
    Go occupy yourself for a while you're lost whatever just frick off, vile in denial just step off
    Why you think I get deals from record labels you get deals from drug dealers
    Unappealing insincere won't eat Happy Meals you spill bong water like tears filled with lost fear
    Do acid and beer and trip out on how your queer little beard looks so weird in the mirror man
    Guitar noodlin and patchouli let me teach you Ital-go Fongule
    When I was in high school I'd a thought you were so fuckin cool
    Anyway as I was saying before my screen name is much better than yours, its' -----
    What you think I would tell you so you can Instant Messenger me all day?
    I don't think so I am very important and right now I am eating lunch
    Go get signed to Ruffhouse go away, bid on Ebay for a stuffed Mickey Mouse in a mug,
    A sticky handcuffed pic of buff Courtney Love, one of Prince's aborted doves, a Jackson glove,
    A blow up Peter Max pillow of Love, a diamond rug, or somethin worth more than all that stuff:
    A cup that Princess Superstar once drank out of

    Back to Top

     
    Untouchable Part 2 (feat. Beth Orton)
    (C. Kirschner, B. Orton, S. Jung)
    Produced by Chops for Magnificent Butcher Productions (S. Jung / BMI) Additional Production by Concetta for Concetta Music (BMI) and Curtis Curtis for The Vertical Corporation (BMI). Bass by Walter Sipser. Beth Orton appears courtesy of Heavenly, EMI Music Publishing.

    I got King Kong playin Ping-Pong with a big bong in my brainstorm and the pains warm
    Swarm like smog in Hong Kong I know it's wrong but I kill me softly with my own song
    Some magic wand could make it be ok kill the decay like a cake and a lay
    But today- it wasn't a good day and you can't touch me I've already faded, I faded away
    Beth Orton: Sometimes I wear nothing on the outside
    Because there's too much on the inside
    The bouncer wouldn't let me in
    He said my emotions were too close to the skin
    And at this point a touch would feel like a cut
    Turn me off, just turn it off
    I'm off base off face when I think I lace I cough mace
    I could go on for days but then I always complain
    A waste of breath and a name
    I aim and I maim and I came here to choose but when I look around me, compare me and lose
    Payin dues feelin blues got no clues and it's all news to you, huh
    I keep it so undercover I could be a mattress and it matches the patchy ashes my brain crashes
    This address, I hope I move from it from summit to plummet I covet release and it's comin
    Untouchable it ain't discussible I'm disgustable in a vestibule must a pulled a musclefull in my head
    I bet I get better but better remember I waited forever
    Fuck Princess I'm talkin 'bout Concetta you never met her
    It kind of appears my ego account's in arrears
    Fear, tore up and teared with wet tears I feel weird and I wish it was easy to ask you to come here
    Sometimes I'm happy when I see the sun one day I'll say I've won
    And if you think this song is done there's Untouchable Part 1

    Back to Top

     
    Untouchable Part 1 (feat. 7Even)
    (C. Kirschner, A. Phillips, O. Teeba, J. Wherry) Produced by the Herbaliser (BMI). Concetta Music (BMI). Bass by Kester Lydon. Keys by Jake Wherry. Cuts by DJ Ollie Teeba. The Herbaliser appears courtesy of Nam's Illest Entertainment.

    Ooh here I come not what you expected
    Y'all erected while I wreck shit next bit hard while I wreck it
    Elected prom queen on the strength of my last record
    Hectic get nekkid and do it backstage after you all exit
    About three minutes start countin back seconds
    I got sexists beggin me to make me breakfasts
    Winnipeg to Texas, Easter egg to Xmas
    Ass in excess make them other senseless girls look anorexics
    Ain't nobody can do what I do, can't have what I have, untouchable don't be mad
    If naughty girls need love too then I guess I'm bad
    Flow like Maxi Pad, magic Alad it's just some crazy spark I always had
    Y'all are gonna feel like Chris Columbus when you discover me
    Under the covers undercover in reverie readily I'd say I was bigger than Jesus
    Save the formal apology for my Anthology and Regis
    7EVEN: Stand off/hands off
    The Princess resussin y'all fresh air in the game
    Hands off she's untouchable, untouchable what, untouchable what, untouchable what, untouchable right
    I'm the finest of the best and if that don't make sense
    Who cares look at how I dress and if that don't make sense I'm gonna talk about you in past tense
    And if that don't make sense fuck you I'm a go smoke sens
    Don't start a fight with me I don't care I'll bite your teeth
    Get in ya shit like a colostomy impossible to compete with me
    A Prophecy- I'm gonna own everything like I was an apostrophe
    Number 1 on Billboard a record of just me coughing see
    To heck with ya I'm kickin non-sequiturs
    To all my competitors so out your range don't give a what if I'm strange
    Come up to my room D'Angelo I want to bite your abdomen-what!
    Have fun crush you lyrically like Nell Carter mixed with Big Pun and Run
    Never outdone shinin charisma only one star can outshine and that's the sun
    I got a vision itchin to be an imposition invadin domes and homes like a religion inquisition
    A juxtaposition let's fuck you pick the position holdin the front of the fridge bangin your bitch in the kitchen
    Diamond in the rough? I'm rough on the diamond-Gotta be nice if you want in the hymen
    If you an MC you better be nice when you rhymin
    And if you get me a seltzer it better have a lime and um
    Memorize the name the Superstar, open your big mouths only if you about to go Rarrrr
    On the ones, twos, threes and fives no 1200's I got 12,000's and I mean guys!
    Easy on eyes I can't lie get high from rhymes to you know what I'm tight
    What a lady, what a night, oooh, and if you think this song is through, there's Untouchable Part 2
    Untouchable in the 4X4 untouchable you know I got more
    Untouchable and that's how we raw and that's how we raw and that's raw

    Back to Top

     
    What Is It? (feat. Sinista)
    (C. Kirschner, J. Wright)
    Produced by Sinista (BMI). Additional Production by Concetta Kirschner for Concetta Music (BMI) and Curtis Curtis for The Vertical Corporation (BMI). Cuts by Sinista. Bass by Walter Sipser.

    Back to Top

     
    Welcome to My World
    (C. Kirschner)
    Produced by Concetta Kirschner for Concetta Music (BMI). Additional Production by Curtis Curtis for The Vertical Corporation (BMI). Bass by Walter Sipser. Cuts by Perrin Wright.

    I'm the chick who drops sick flows fill bowls with ill flows ill ho hell knows pantyhose holes full of No Doz
    Make your earholes shit pop six Pep Bysmol sick abysmal bitch suckin dildos instead of dicks for kicks
    No time for fake bitches, just sip some orange juice with my real bitches
    And I just got three wishes I ain't askin for world peace
    I want Range Rovers in three different colors Genie gimme the damn keys!
    Dead wrong like a Dead sticker on a bong bombs runnin arms and rayguns with Ron Reagan to Vietnam and Iran
    I'm blonde and dumb, I just taped over your demo with my song, gagged Cisco with his thong
    I ain't kiddin I'm filled with lil pills of Ritalin riddle middle men to rob Bailey and Biddle again tell a friend
    I use men like Mennen in my armpit I'm bad I can't stop it
    Evil twin count as two in your caucus tell Murdoch lemme in his office
    I'm a steal the carpet then Fox and then Rawkus, voted for Dukakis, and I like Secaucus
    Cuz they got the word cock in it
    Welcome to my world, such a nice nice girl, welcome to my world
    Of course I'm getting lost ran into Kate Moss
    Fed her a nine course full of chopped horse and forced her to toss
    10 times divorced I speak in Morse-dot dot dash dot dash (HuH?) I just told you had an ugly ass!
    Type rash unabashed crass with a brain rash strapped for cash take me to your trailer I'll steal your trash
    Ask me a question, I love to lie, hey look girl is that Jimi Hendrix? 'Scuse me while I kiss your guy
    Everyone tells me I'm the female Eminem-well all I'm gonna talk about is getting fucked up the ass then
    Don't be mad Em I'm just playin, I wish I had a Dr. Dre and sold out shows one million white faces in Dayton
    Ritzes stead of Days Inn bitches for maids then
    2 scoops of raisins amazin lays by names like Casey Kasem
    Lazin by the pool with record industry fools Crystal in my drool, man that'd be cool
    I'm like Whoa
    Let me answer the question of the day-I was born in Spanish Harlem then moved to PA
    On 172 and St. Nich. Food stamps and WIC 'til my folks worked themselves rich (this track's making me sick)
    If you want to compare me like white Lil' Kim female Kool Keith
    I'm speak and keep it simple, here's your brain on Princess Superstar pretty mental:
    Ok-- I'm the Black Shirley Temple
    Iced out like Entenmanns iced pens and diamond engines and denims
    Got 10 Yemins countin Benjamins with Lettermans
    Killin Pac mens like Inky and Binky
    When ya stick your finger in me it'll be sticky come out with a diamond ring on your pinky
    Work six different angles, nicer tits than all the Bangles
    Got Kangols singin Star Spangles - Oh Say Can You See
    I'm better lookin than the flag you can sing that shit to me (I'm gonna get in big trouble Louise!)
    I'm taking a stance spend my big advance on a 500 man lap dance
    Put ants in Bagger Vance's baggy pants sir come dance it's just my circumstance
    I wanna watch him do the Safety Dance, I'd do it myself but I can't
    Or I'll just give my dough to my new label for nice dinners and liquor
    I'm playin but, um next year that advance needs to be bigger

    Back to Top

     
    I Love You (Or At Least I Like You) (feat. JZone)
    (C. Kirschner, J. Mumford)
    Produced by Concetta Kirschner for Concetta Music (BMI). Additional Production by Curtis Curtis for The Vertical Corporation (BMI). JZone Music (ASCAP) Bass by Walter Sipser.

    Baby you got what I need
    Try to sleep I haven't slept, try to eat I forget
    Shit where's your number hope that's the one I kept
    Now we just met and I suspect I might just love you
    Well you can bet I'm mad thinkin of ya, don't want to trouble ya
    Check my dress -about the same color as my BMW
    Think about my hand round that penis damn son you just had a stroke a genius
    Like Manson your eyes are like gone crazy like Macy Gray I'm a get you up and do somethin
    (JZone rhyme)
    Fine, OK, so that's the way you like it get you Henny but watch it I might spike it
    If you were wearin a skirt I'd tell you to hike it and when we get down best believe I'm a mic it
    You must be used to all this winin and dinin just drink your wine and don't want to hear your whinin
    Gonna get mine, no fights aight, I'm fucking you tonight
    I'll throw rocks at your window while you sleep at home and if that don't work well I'll just throw you this song
    JZone: Well if you ever feel freaky I'll be your ho
    But if you ain't got my cash I'll be out the door
    (JZone rhyme)
    I like it dirty hottie, buy you Karl Kani, Armani, lick Criss off Punani
    (JZone rhyme)
    Male ho huh? I'm a make you my housewife, get your ass indoors, please, see I asked nice
    (JZone rhyme)
    Get back here lobster costs 35 bucks, I want an hour for each dollar that's 35 fucks
    No hugs just my diamond thug come on baby baby give me that nasty love

    Back to Top

     
    Who Writes Your Lyrics
    (C. Kirschner)
    Produced by Concetta Kirschner for Concetta Music (BMI). Additional Production by Curtis Curtis for The Vertical Corporation (BMI). Guitar by Pete Kohl. Bass by Walter Sipser

    I'm the flyest MC the finest MC the nicest MC oh that's boring see
    There's another MPC so why you think most hip-hop sounds the same except for me?
    Cryptic kick shit from the crypt sadistic lick hits with wit I'm quick
    Rip crickets in a wicket I'm plain wicked thick in the rig wearing kid lipstick
    I wreck shit on the next shit spit it in ya ear bit like a Qtip
    Big silly bitch wickedy witch lickety split in a sitch no dick but talk big carry a big stick
    So I'm a girl, yeah I'm white and I write all night with a bare swingin light
    On the computer alright a producer alright
    I produced this song- so you know who you are you know you were wrong
    No I was not in that porn On Golden Blonde got it goin on more James Bond than Sean John
    Conned James Cahn for a ticket to Cannes and I Love Ferris Bueller like tchhickachickkaa
    Please don't ask me who writes my lyrics
    I'll spit up in your face much faster than you could hear it
    Don't ask me who writes my lyrics
    Damn ya you're enamored I'm a slam ya hotter than your can down in Alabama
    Where's my camera I need a Kodak moment of the moment I made you feel like Hammer
    Son of Sam? I'm the daughter of Sam, slaughter a man on the microphone
    Pardon me ma'am was that part of a man or your son I just whipped on the mic and sent home
    Big quick shit New York- Stockholm
    Kike and a Wop Wipin a cock walkin the block drop ya jaw to jock to your sock
    I get that a lot yeah stop take stock shhh let me show you what I got
    Made up my mind- like made it up I imagined it-I don't got a mind I abandoned it in a cabinet
    So I could be a candidate for writin a few hits walkin a few pits and cashin in on that shit
    I put out my first tape in '94 if you got one, I'll buy it
    I don't got one no more it was called Mitch Better get my Bunny
    That shit was shitty but funny I admit it was dumb but I did it with no money
    In 9-5 my first CD called Strictly Platinum but it didn't go Platinum it went back to them
    And instead of waitin for someone to put me on
    I started a label ran it 'til the money was gone, then came along, then was gone,
    Money money money, don't try to make it with your songs
    But like Salt 'n Pepa in El Segundo we push it a long (Push it!)
    And then Fat Beats wouldn't take my last LP
    So I got egg beaters threw em back at the backpacks on 6th Ave. passin me
    At the Bagel Buffet planted a bomb next to Grays
    And when the records rained I sold 'em back for double to Fat Beats in LA
    It's all OK cuz when Fat Beats still wouldn't distribute my record
    I renamed it-Pharoah Monch featuring Chubby Checker
    Ha ha mic wrecker don't sleep, Princess Superstar – The shit is deep

    Back to Top

     
    Keith 'N Me (Remix) (feat. Kool Keith)
    (C. Kirschner, K. Thornton, Dart LA) Produced by Dart LA for Alkali Inc. Reverend Tom Music (ASCAP)/Kohaw Music (ASCAP), Inc./Notting Hill Music c/o The Bicycle Music Company. Concetta Music (BMI). Bass by Walter Sipser.

    Back to Top

     
    Too Much Weight (feat. Bahamadia)
    (C. Kirschner, A. Reid)
    Produced by Concetta Kirschner for Concetta Music (BMI). Additional Production by Curtis Curtis for The Vertical Corporation (BMI) and Walter Sipser. Samadia Music (ASCAP) Bahamadia appears courtesy Goodvibe/B-Girl/J. Core Recordings. Live Horns by Paula Henderson and Steve Moses. Bass by Walter Sipser. Live drums by Lee Farber.

    Don't censor me I live like a saint I meditate every morning drink carrot juice I'm hardly late
    Try censoring your candidate who gets head under the desk
    If that's what you get you can bet I wanna be the next prez
    I deserve the best and if you think my lyrics are incendiary I'll go back to being an insipid secretary
    Won't inspire no one, then the world will be safe I'll just use words to talk about how Microsoft Word is so great
    I feel bad that everyone is crazy and kids are smokin crack
    I also feel bad that Michaelangelo might have hurt his back
    And what if there were no tracts for Shakespeare or wax for Flash no road for Kerouac
    There might not have been rap
    Leave us alone make your own family a better place
    How much hate could we eliminate if you were down with your kids' mix tapes
    It must have been fate that brought me to this game
    So let's gain use the platform for something more than Phat Farm
    Sing about the Bling Bling Sing to help em outta Sing Sing turn your beepers off ring ring
    I'm getting sicker here's the kicker fuck your Advisory Sticker
    I'm advise to stick 'this CD made by Seagram's Liquor'

    You're puttin too much weight into words and there's too much hate in this world

    Stop blamin us for all the pain and stuff, fuck, shit man, it's just a cuss we ain't that dangerous
    For every song that supposedly maimed someone's life there's a million songs that changed someone's life
    Change your mind chains in your mind people dyin gets defined by parents who lie and hurt their child
    Dot commers don't affect migrant farmers, Bronx Bombers get paid enough to help all the baby mamas
    I'm a vomit this 'til all the lobbyists in congresses keep their promises and the artists are all real artists
    And the fathers finish what the fuck they started
    Comma comma what the hell do I know I'm just an MC getting real damn busy on the mic
    Getting all up in a tizzy I might just shutup and brag on how I keep my rhymes tight
    Cuz that's what's selling tonight

    (Bahamadia rhyme)

    Back to Top