Wake Up Show Anthem KKBT

(album: 7 Songs - 1994)

[Lauryn Hill:]
Uh-uh-oh, I'm cooling with my niggas on the Wake Up Show-oh-oh
We kick a little something for the radi-uh-uh-oh
I'm cooling with my niggas on the Wake Up Show-oh-oh
We kick a little something for the radi-uh-uh-oh

[Nas:]
Check it, bust it
Tune it up, it's the corrupt novelist, Nas, involved in this
Liveness, radio waves, slaves thrive inside of this
Wake Up Show flow, hip-hop's alarm clock, the bomb spot
Mellow with ganja that makes my eyes turn yellow
Seat reclined on my leather sofa, however close to 9pm
Joe Quixx, King Tech, I could just see 'em
On the one and two, son, my blunted crew pour the rum
92.3, number one in the slum
Representing DJ's, Sway's the host, he parlays the most
What a collaboration, see, I'm comatose
No pork, just knowledge and I'm born once more
It's the beat that blesses the street, deep in the '94

[Pharoahe Monch:]
Hip-hop's last prophet henceforth in existence
The 92.3 megahertz will exert radio waves
That slays from a phenomenal distance
Electrons appear to slice through Jeeps that you can hear some
Slum literature, consider it will numb your eardrum, kid
You're sleeping like a Latter Day... Saint
But Sway & King Tech'll wake you up on Saturday
9 to 12 verbal junkies overdose
And Joe Quixx'll get you fixed to the mix
And then I'm ghost when

[Prince Poetry:]
Uh, in your sleep, I slap you with the lethal doses of medicine
So Wake Up with Organized and the brethren
King Tech, Joe Quixx better than your last fix
Severing wackness with Sway the host, dose a fat mix
Baby doll's fronting, so Saturday night's open
Hopping on the 101, time scoping
92.3 degrees, choking on chocolate, FM dial smoking
Prince Po' blows up from LA to Hoboken, and I'm out

[Ras Kass:]
Yo, it's the Wake Up Show
My genetic make-up take up
One hundred and thirty pounds of beef
But lyrics shake up like January 17th
Crossover's extinct, MCs is fossils
Protect ya neck and wear a bulletproof vest on ya tonsils
Amateurs bandage ya cornea
'Cause you don't wanna see California
C-arson and spitting arsenic
With Sway, Tech and Joe Quixx on the mix
Spinal meningitis ain't as stiff as the riff of Ras Kass
Styles lash like racist crackers with whips
Come equipped, you're losing your paraphernalia
I'm a hip-hop apostle singing the gospel like Mahalia Jackson
Each Saturday, 9 until the break of dawn
Put cocaine on my tongue, you got crack, now rock on...

[Lauryn Hill:]
Uh-uh-oh, I'm cooling with my niggas on the Wake up Show-oh-oh
We kick a little something for the radi-uh-uh-oh
I'm cooling with my niggas on the Wake up Show-oh-oh
We kick a little something for the radi-uh-uh-oh

[Dred Scott:]
Saturday night, get live, set it off right
Swing with my peeps King Tech, yo, pass the mic
And turn her up 'til you hear the speaker blow
Dred Scott, it's 9 o'clock, time for the Wake Up Show
To the break of... you think I'mma say dawn
But I say day 'cause it rhymes with Sway, my word is bond
I'm on the scene, plotting out the mainstream, doing it right
With Joe Quixx on the mix, late in the night
So, tune in 'cause the crew don't sleep
Booming in ya Jeep on 92.3

[Shyheim:]
It's 9 o'clock PM, 92.3 The Beat begins
To rock hip-hop non-stop, you know who got the props
In L.A. on Saturdays, Tech and Sway no doubt

Set your clocks for the unorthodox hip-hop that drops
9 to midnight King Tech and Sway, yo, those kids is tight
In the mix with Joe Quixx, the verb spit verses
With the purpose of dropping curses like a triple six
Fat snares and dirty kicks to get ya open
From Watts to Oakland, it's that raw ish that's thought provoking
Spoken, words precise like a laser
Crossroads and the Wake Up Show
Will get your party shaking like a pager, on silent mode, yeah
Nine to 12, Saturday nights, fool, peep the episode

[Saafir:]
Wake Up Show, and you can tell
I'm not spitting it in no muffled style
No silent, screams just weddings, rings
To swings and Sway Techs King, Tech
-nique and ability and a little agility from Joe Quixx
Hey, Jay-Z and me eyes is seen
But only on the bottom of water rising, we're taking roots
Put it on 92.3 while you're beating boots, oops
I meant coupes bumping into missions on a twamp
Swoop Saturday between nine and 12, I'm delving
Where we'll then tune in to the phantom of the year
Here on 92.3 times me
Hobo Junction wreaks of odors that only soldiers
Are connected to Wake Up... Show Ya right

[Lauryn Hill:]
Uh-uh-oh, I'm cooling with my niggas on the Wake up Show-oh-oh
We kick a little something for the radi-uh-uh-oh
I'm cooling with my niggas on the Wake up Show-oh-oh
We kick a little something for the radi-uh-uh-oh