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George Clinton

Rhythm & Rhyme

 

Rhythm & Rhyme

(album: Hey, Man, Smell My Finger - 1993)


[George Clinton:]
Therefore, this Rap rendition in tradition of competition
Mace the motherfucker before the first emission
Gets to ascend the mountain
I sip spout rhyming ad infinitum
I pee in the fountain then I claw, clutching the cliff
Cause I got to get higher

[Shock G:]
I shall begin with a crazy evil grin
So evidently awesome both know something will occur
Deep and dreadful be, constant careful
You get an earful of the fearful
The rhythm, the rhyme not based on material mind more so
Along strong ethereal lines although torn
From a brain remaining to ruckus
You got music that is so massive you move to it
Or you must move away, choose to play or stray into it

[Money B:]
Over chill mode
I load a lyric fling you hard against the bass
In ways shown to be mixed from an ID a forbidden poet
In me, arriving unannounced and let me pounce on you
You bust, I'll bounce and it's a take out
You're through, finished quick, yeah, I said of that shit

[Shock G:]
And it takes just a few of my favorite breaks

[George Clinton:]
Rhythm and rhymes, rhythm and rhymes
I got rhythm and motherfucking rhymes
I got the rhythm and rhymes, rhythm and rhymes
I got the rhythm and motherfucking rhymes

[Humpty Hump:]
Therefore, this Rap rendition in tradition of competition
Mace the motherfucker before the first emission
Gets to ascend the mountain
I sip spout rhyming ad infinitum
I pee in the fountain then I claw, clutching the cliff
Cause I got to get higher
Into the mansion where the mad messiah "G.C. gone crazy"
Hacking in the channel, through all the slack rappers
I pack a bag, I travel to the peninsula with a posse
Peeping over the edge, I drop a rock on your head
As you leaping up the ledge, to lead on
Leaving you mangled, tengled in your Mic cord
Your mamma would have been better in battle
Your boasting is bogus
Silly poses is putting your pretty poetry packaged pathetically in front of me
I suppress, I arrest the best of MCs regularly
Come along, too strong, no don't move
This ain't a shake or bake, it's time to rhyme
For those who think we fake, a few of my favorite breaks

[George Clinton:]
Rhythm and rhyme, rhythm and rhyme
Rhythm and motherfucking rhymes
You walk a million miles to bite off one of my styles
Death tolls in the trillions, trashed by the trial of traumatic
Disorder sort of relating the way the I saw them
Death by battle before the post mortem
I caught them silhouetted, picked out to get it
Like an AK 47, I fired the rhythm
Let it reload my lips and gob to fit the job
Shooting straight upon the head of a segregated slob
That hobbled up, bobbled up with a front to chap me
Get that bullshit out of my face
I totally rap my reply, attacking every guy
Who from this point on now is doomed to die, for thousand times
As I rewind the very line I used to slay him with
Guess I was born with a gift, the dumb punk got me to deal with

And I got rhythm and rhyme, rhythm and rhyme
Rhythm and motherfucking rhymes
I got the rhythm and rhyme, rhythm and rhyme
Rhythm and motherfucking rhymes

Each growl is golden
I grow beholding to the bold but basic beat
That I been sold on loads of lyrics
Sewn attached desk to deck, mic'd and patched through disk
I snatched 2 thousand versions, I'm on a version excursion
Still I can spare a bit of time to do a rhyme without swearing
Give him the all clear sign
And I'm preparin, darin, rap and roll with soul Compatibility
To the laughter at your rap senility
A line of rhymes snorted, my face is contorted
The loser says: I'm lame but he's self-supported
Yeah, it goes without sayin, it's true
Anybody gets fucked up, it's gonna be you
Yeah

And I'm your local gravedigger on a vocal hairpin trigger
As sure as candy's delicious, quicker than you figure
Too quick to quench the fire of my biggest funeral pyre
Builds and fills with fools desiring open combat
They choke and jump back, now they wonder how the fuck I've done that
Sensing seconds too late, you got room for improvement
You wanna stop and drop, go over the top
You bop and strain your voice, ha ha, got no choice
Come back one more time and try to win against the veteran
The better than many, than plenty, than any
Fuck you! here's the cemetery where they line up all the graves
Of those that tried that shit, no breaks
Pontious peers, lend me your ears
I'm the madman at the helm
The one that steers this vessel of vocals
Watch out, it's getting choppy
I ride the rough out in a way you connot copy
Look and see if the sharks have taken a bite out of my hull
They always do, and I feel the gale pull me into battle
Maybe I said something really too clever
Right there off the top of my head, they take it and tape it
Before I can say this is the property of the "P"
Mine by design, each and every line, relies on the rewind
You better pray to the heaven and the earth
Cause I'm gonna scorch your monkey ass with the next verse

Rhythm and rhyme, rhythm and rhymes
Rhythm and motherfucking rhymes
Therefore, this Rap rendition in tradition of competition
Mace the motherfucker before the first emission
Gets to ascend the mountain
I sip spout rhyming ad infinitum
I pee in the fountain then I claw, clutching the cliff
Cause I got to get higher
Into the mansion where the mad messiah
G.C. gone crazy, hacking in the channel, through all the slack rappers
I pack a bag, I pack a bag
I travel to the peninsula with a posse
Peeping over the edge, I drop a rock on your head
As you leaping up the ledge, to lead on
Leaving you mangled, tengled in your Mic cord
Your mamma would have been better in battle
Your boasting is bogus
Silly poses are putting your pretty poetry packaged pathetically in front of me
I suppress, I arrest the best of MCs regularly
Come along, too strong, no don't move
This ain't a shake or bake, it's time to rhyme
For those who think we fake, a few of my favorite breaks
Rhythm and rhyme, rhythm and rhymes
Rhythm and motherfucking rhymes
Fuck the dumb shit

Terminat

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