45 Kickin It Live

Lyrics

Mr. Voodoo ft. K.A. - "45 Kickin It Live" [Emcee(s): Mr. Voodoo] [Producer(s): Charlemagne] [Hook/Additional Vocals: K.A.] [Intro: Mr. Voodoo] Yeah, Mr. Voodoo with my man K.A., about to load this gun. So check it out. Check it out. Check it out. Check it out [Verse 1: Mr. Voodoo] Kapow! Another emcee bust like he was pimple pus I burn down your backyard like I was Uncle Gus Black, I don't know how to act I'll murder you with the yakety yak, I attack Coming out the crevices and cracks. If it Wasn't for their tracks, a lot of emcees would be wack. I got this Sewn up. Those that roll up get rolled up like a blunt, then I Huff and I puff and blow the house up My Englishness got Teflon tips, but I hate the waist Clips, so I'ma smack the taste out your lips The skins be screaming, "Yumping yiminy," win me When high, exalted, mystical, it slides down your chimney The cool jerk originates like Kool Herc and The Herculoids Heavens to Murgatroyd, I'm slaying wack humanoids Da! Da! Da! Da! I kick The vaudeville and bet you that the crowd will applaud still I'm Angkor Wat. Like Muslims make Salat, the nasty master slot Quick to pop a shot, wack emcees get herbed a lot The Eighth Wonder cooler than the tundra, I make bodies Jolt 'cause I throw a flow like a lightning bolt, but not Like Zeus. I'm more like, "Jesús, listen to the Drums puh-puh!" then I arumpapum- -pum. I cause more grief for fams than the Son of Sam And I don't give a black goddamn! [Hook: K.A. and Mr. Voodoo] (x2) My 45's kicking it live, and that's no jive! My 45's kicking it live, and that's no jive! My 45's kicking it live, and that's no jive! Puh-puh! Take a dive if you wanna stay alive! [Verse 2: Mr. Voodoo] I make niggas jump Around with my toolie. I'm well-armed and crazy like Sam, my firearms do bodily harm, pedestrians Ride mine like an equestrian, I get biz on any Topic. Your skills are microscopic. The hyperbolic Syllabic sess with Dalai mystic, artistic, hard like granite Like Bam, I make the "Planet Rock," I slam, dammit The slightly muscular hustler, rupturer, restructurer Always blessing you with rhymes that's combustible I kick the door right on a titan, dog, so if you're wack My diction folds your vision 'til all you see is black. All Natural, no additives or preservatives. If Your rhymes ain't superlative, then you don't deserve to live The dastardly, bastardly. Girls lose their chastity 'cause Quick-fast, they be giving up that ass to me The fly talker makes you feel The Force like Skywalker Ancient African secret how I freak it This style is definitive while your style is primitive I smoke you like mints and end hedges. I'm rough around The edges, the don with the wand that freaks the leprechaun I r-r-r-r-r-r-r-eeh-ah like a Decepticon To reshape your frame like it was clay 'cause I don't play. Do fifty Bullets up your ass make your day? 'Cause, by the way… [Hook: K.A. and Mr. Voodoo] (x2) My 45's kicking it live, and that's no jive! My 45's kicking it live, and that's no jive! My 45's kicking it live, and that's no jive! Puh-puh! Take a dive if you wanna stay alive! [Verse 3: Mr. Voodoo] Run, run, run. Here I come, diddy dum. I keep my Gat concealed 'cause I don't have a permit for the gun I'm looking for the punk that think that he can fuck around So I can empty rounds in your batty boy sound Niggas pack the gat and then scram, can't Do me a damn 'cause I know who I am Fantastic, gigantic, dogmatic. Things get drastic When I let off the boombastic at the static A tisket, a tasket. When the gat clicks, rats get Put in their casket with their brains all splattered 'Cause I plug slugs in thugs and unclogs the Glock And what I rock got you locked to my jock Yo (What?!?), if only you knew what I Know. When Mr. Voodoo come to release, I Flow, it go puh-puh-puh all over the track, I got Cuckoo caps for that poopoo crack When I pack steel, caps peel. I got 1-8-7 Skills, so, 'til a beat killed for real The Brooklyn gunner. When I bust shots, watch Your bumboclaat crew decrease in number. Whoever Meddles, I got the mettle to settle the score, and I'ma Give your stupid ass, I'ma give your stupid ass, I'ma Give your stupid ass what you're asking for, what You're asking for, what you're asking for Two to the temple quite simple. I'm quite Nimble, I'm gonna give your forehead a dimple 'cause… [Hook: K.A. and Mr. Voodoo] (x2) My 45's kicking it live, and that's no jive! My 45's kicking it live, and that's no jive! My 45's kicking it live, and that's no jive! Puh-puh! Take a dive if you wanna stay alive! [Outro: Mr. Voodoo] Yeah!