new york straight talk - mr. voodoo lyrics
mr. voodoo – “new york straight talk”
[emcee(s): mr. voodoo]
[producer(s): charlemagne]
[hook: samples] (x4)
“emcees out there, you better stand clear” – sample from pmd on epmd – “it’s my thing”
“from new york—straight talk” – sample from pmd on epmd – “it’s my thing” (x2)
[verse 1: mr. voodoo]
i was
lost in the mix from ’84 to ’86, parties
in parks after dark, wallabee clarks and fat kicks. before
the coming of tecs and glocks, we used to walk the block
with double-0-7 knocks and sneakers stuffed with socks. it was
bamboo before blunts, british walkers, and suede fronts
no droopy-drawer n-ggas or daisy-duke-wearing sons. i used a
toothbrush to keep my suede pumas clean
did devious things using mischievious means. we used to
walk around with plastic bags in our pockets
steal a herb’s kicks for profit. if the size fit, we’d rock it. even
then, those i called friends was living hard and trife [?]
[?] i’d seen ‘em take this god’s life
peace to all the lockers and poppers and real hip hoppers
i watched the mobsters imitate it—they [?]. as
a young child, i learned to box penitentiary-style
always trying new tricks we learned from kungfu fl!cks
but crack came, and, since then, things have never been the same
constant change—now everyone want to be in the game. one love
one destiny when in your timbs and gore-tex boots
b-tches and loot in every color, army suit. no more
boomboxes—just fast cars and fat systems that reverberate
it’s hard to differentiate the real from those who perpetrate
fair ones is out, loaded, so my bullets stay garlic-coated
keep my mind loaded and f-ck you up blindfolded
[hook: samples] (x4)
“emcees out there, you better stand clear” – sample from pmd on epmd – “it’s my thing”
“from new york—straight talk” – sample from pmd on epmd – “it’s my thing” (x2)
[verse 2: mr. voodoo]
i have
uprisen from the days of public -ssistance. writing rhymes
[?] hearing shots let off in the distance
persistence overcomes resistance of all opposition. many
family members marked down as “missing” or “in prison”
[?] depending on how your foundation’s built
with n-ggas on permanent tilt with no remorse or guilt
[?] an everyday thing
n-ggas still sling despite all the drama it’ll bring. dollar is
deity—most consciousness it nullifies. the a-
-necdote is my antidote, gunshots is my lullaby
at certain times, the life of crime calls. i never
fall ‘cause strength of mind’s divine over all. i used
to hear stories of men who’d do a flip in freeways
kingpins come and go—one’s erased and one’s replaced. when i
saw kr for the first time on the album cover of criminal
minded, holding a 9, that sh-t f-cked up my mind. we used
to wop to my melody. now nights is filled with felony
and beasts with automatics—them crackers [?]
rappers resort to all sorts of dramatics, but this sport is ‘bout
grammatics, and fact is, apparently, you lack this
to come off hard’s mandatory
my rhymes are inflammatory, highly incantatory
rhythm is serum, and i’ma satisfy my hunger. i be
trifer than a lifer in cyphers. it’s like i’m under
a state of hypnosis, mental psychosis. i diagnose this
by the doses, dumb n-ggas like multiple sclerosis
ignorant just like neurosis—it eats the brain
same devil, different name. i take the four-fifth and aim
deading your frame, and shoot the gift with sk!lls of archery. top of
the hierarchy with the mind like west indian archie. i
catch thoughts miscellaneous, kick a flow instantaneous
extemporaneous, and make ‘em look like ignoramuses
[hook: samples] (x8)
“emcees out there, you better stand clear” – sample from pmd on epmd – “it’s my thing”
“from new york—straight talk” – sample from pmd on epmd – “it’s my thing” (x2)
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