Sex Style

by Kool Keith

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about

Under the guise of über-mack Big Willie Keith, Kool Keith has composed an album that is so over-the-top nasty, you might want to handle it with surgical gloves. Sex Style plays like an amateur porn film, and Keith has kindly included explicit samples from adult films that bump ugly against tracks like "Don't Crush It," "Lovely Lady," and "Plastic World." Keith calls the album "pornocore," an experiment in sexual excess that more than delivers on its premise. Expect some very scratchy, woofer-shaking funk that you'll definitely want to roll with. Only problem is, even the hardest listener might feel too embarrassed to blow the nasty vocal drip from this album out of his car speakers. --Todd Levin

credits

released February 3, 1997

Produced by KutMasta Kurt For FunkyRedNeck Productions

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about

Kool Keith Bronx

Kool Keith began his rap career with the group Ultramagnetic MCs. After the release of Critical Beatdown, Thornton was reportedly institutionalized in Bellevue Hospital Center. However, he later said that the idea that he was institutionalized came from a flippant remark made during a stressful interview and he never expected the story to become so well-known. ... more

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Track Name: Sex Style
"Now the first drop of juice is there for her to sip
Honey, that's when she back off and just lick the tip"

Chorus:
Sex Style, Niggas want it free
They dogs drink my piss, Girls wanna see.

You want freestlye, that's right, the style is free
Niggas suck my dick and they girls drink my pee
I'm on some S&M shit you can't get with
Pull your panties down on stage and watch you sweat quick
Suckers back to pull their style's transsexual
Lesbians dance with the funky heterosexual
You on the mic, and when you rhyme I start to jerk off
Let my dog lick you German Shepard wanna bust off
I tear your latex, spot MC's having anal sex
Step around like a Tampax, and step up next
I enter New York, no problem with my dick out
California porno star, my ass you can lick out
Saying "What?" with sperm dripping down your partner's butt
I see MC's in my face with they ass up
Let me put my cape on, my rubber and my mask up
Not no horror-core shit, this is porno-core
I'm in the club naked man, I'm the fucking pro
Niggas can't wax no ass, girls should let ' em know

Chorus (2x)

Back I wreck shit, so what nigga? I masturbate
See your girls' cocked back, her legs tied like a figure eight
I'm on stage getting sucked by Madonna
Sticking pipes in your ass you stop the freesyle drama
I pioneered this shit, you keep on sucking dick
Your girl in the crowd, hawking me for a naked flick
I got my silk underwear for the atmosphere
Piss in your face and urinate all in your hair
You name a group that's shit, I will pooper-scoop
Fuck with dismiss, I will damage on the premesis
Niggas step back with Dax grease, watch they ass twist
I rhyme anywhere, golden showers up in Creek Alley
Movie star bitches, MC's lining up in Cali
Drinking vodka, Absolut, sipping Tanqueray
Mc's jump off, I stung your rectum like a stingray
Girls heinie-wipe, MC's say my shit is hype
Pussies collapse, I'd rather fuck them with a cordless mic
Come ride the horse, pull your panties off and pay the cost

Chorus (2x)

"May they beat his balls with a ten-pound hammer
til his asshole whistles the Star-Spangled Banner."

Now the nurse is here, Dr. Butcher to your anus
I don't care who your are, and if you think you're famous
You could be wack, seventy-five fuckin' rap groups
Bisexuals on stage eating fruit loops
Sugar smacks, I got the rhythm for your ass cracks
Bring your girl, she fantasize in my sex world

Chorus (3x)
Track Name: Don't Crush It
Yeah girl I've been checkin out Big Willie Keith
He been trickin a lot of bills on me. Mmm-hmm!
I think I'ma show him somethin tonight
A lap dance I would say
Yeah, that's what I'ma do. Yeahhhh..

I'm like a freak from Hunts Point, the Bronx and the Goat
Wear my drawers in tight mode, naked with no coat
Walkin around, I see you's about to lose her
That honey with white boots, and hair like Medusa
Brown-skin fine, I drink her body like wine
and throw the wax on it, and watch two cheeks shine
I drunk a forty, I'm up in here feelin naughty
I like the go-go girl, go 'head work it shorty
I got no time to trick, on the average girl
I'm in paradise, caught up, in a booty world
And for you regular honies, tryin to play fly
I ain't no Chemical no Bank in your human eye
I like my spot, everybody's butt naked
Pumpes with G-strings, watchin hot momma's shake it
I got my beer, viewin from the back rear
Yo brotherman, pass it right over here
I got to ease off the stress, like an eight to five
Keepin it real vexed, them panties wanna get live
Change the pace up, yo Jimmy turn the bass up
Yea yeah yeahhhh

Chorus (2x): Kool Keith & (Girl)

Yo baby (whassup?)
Don't crush it when you sit upon it
(Yo baby) whassup?
(Don't rush it when I sit upon it)

I see you scopin me, the fourth time you cut your eye
Let the brother there catch wreck, then tell the man goodbye
I'm next on the menu, runnin up and in you
with seven rubbers on me, don't try to discontinue
We gots to bump and grind, crank up the R. Kelly
Delicious kickin, no leather like I'm Fonzarelli
I order two drinks to think, while you show me pink
Summer Eve's breeze and WOO and it don't stink
I'm in the mix, like Funky-master Flex
I'm shootin gizm, then after you can pick up next
I watch you shake it, like palm trees in California
Now you a lady, mature and I'm rubbin on ya
I got my Phantom mask, I'm on the dolo
I slipped in my Tip, then bone a sweetie look like Yo-Yo
She had a good time, knees bent in the chair
She said, "Get wild - I like it when you pull my hair"
I gave her cream, and rubbed it on her black boots
I see a packed house and different color body suits
I'm in the front row, chillin on the down low
Checkin her dogstyle, she's scoped by an ass pro
I'm from the back kid, smooth with tons of grease
Denver and Texas, and Cali on back to East
She hittin switches, and watch she make it lowride
Zoot, zoot, zzzzzzzt

Chorus (1.5X)

It's three o'clock, the morning shift's about to come
Watchin Goldie lapdance, that grade hiney ain't no slum
I gets my workout, my slickest hand from every angle
She's on the job right, cutiepie sippin Tango
I gotta peel for real, a hundred dollar bill
I'm comin straight up, and not for a breakfast meal
This ain't no Burger King, this ain't no White Castle
Not like some ugly girls in Bentleys tryin give a hassle
I like the slot machine, bustin nuts mean
Slippery wet lubrication like Valvoline
I'm pullin nylon, yo dead up G, to the side
Feelin soft flesh, I'm hard, I'ma let her ride
Jump up and down, get live like House of Pain
Leavin em soke wet, the silk with a tan stain
I reach her climax, she's happy with her orgasm
Go on girl!

Chorus (2X)
Track Name: Make Up Your Mind
Yeah.. so you called me last night
You was kinda confused huh?
You didn't know what to do
All excited over these football players and baseball players
Whassup? You lookin for a million dollars or somethin?
Man you kinda confused

Freak mode! I'm inna sex, so let em feel
Touch my private, my thing made of steel
Shootin gizm, she ride like a Geo Prism
I'm out in Cali, San Bernardino Valley
I'm on the hill, not North in Peteskill
Big Willie servin, now tell me how you pimps feel
I'm in a Cadillac, drivin in a droptop
People don't know my style, watch when they heads bop
I'm on the highway, girls pull em down my way
Credit cards and checks, man she get paid on Friday
The woman's out, the Phantom pushin more clout
I'm watchin him with Sam, drinkin Guinness Stout
Bourban booze, green alligator shoes
Union comission sex, government intelligent
What you see girl, that Benz is irrelevant
Materialistic, ugly man is plastic
No class, in a suit, cost rather cheap
Got the nerve to blow the horn and he try to beep
Interfere, in my spot, and he's comin near
She's in the white boots, breathin in my ear

Chorus:
Make up your mind, who you want to pump the butt (4X)

No infections, condom style, I got no yeast
Worldwide trunk funk, no jazz on the East
Breakin honies down, mackin here to Petersberg
Virginia Slim, turnin' freaks out in Lynchburg
With brown bootie, Joe Smith, here from Pittsburgh
The right player, even if I choose odds
Let me shuffle jackpots, women pick the cards
Yo hydraulic butt, bounce like a six-trey
I'm on the case, jealous man steppin in my way
Hot pursuit, why she play herself? Get the boot
Actin like Troop, he say he signed with a group
He wrote for Babyface, did songs, toured with Snoop
...lyin to you to get through
Droppin them old lines, his breath smell like doodoo
I got a style if a brother wanna know
Smokin that stink blunt, you still sniffin blow
Nose runnin on time with green slime
Step in the club, I throw urine on your mind
Big Luciano, diamond rings on the grand piano
Girls flock and guys hop on the other jock
I'm in a two-door, with bass comin through your block
Sound kicks, I got the fly broads in the mix
California butt, MC's suckin more what
Like Gerald Levert, you try to make it work
Jheri Curl Jones, trickin' cash on a skirt
Playin' to win, whassup with Uncle Ben?
Brother is slab, fatback bacon
Still fakin, his voice chords achin
You know I'm perplex, exotic on Ampex
Dogstyle champ, hittin booty for butt sex
I can disguise myself like Michael Jackson
The flasher, are you ready for action?

Chorus:
Make up your mind, who you want to pump the butt (3X)
Make up your mind, who you want to pump it

I got a summons, my clothes is off, I'm butt-naked
in a discotechque, don't tell me ladies can't take it
Just a hat my drawers in a overcoat
My El Dorado lean, the black Caddy float
down the hill with Frankie Dolla Bill
Honies in wet zone, tell me how them drawers feel
Suckin on a hippie, on the Mississippi
Econo Lodge, a cheap way to get a quickie
Five and five, equal ten
Add twenty up, I'm back in the spot again
Blowin it up, I drop my own bomb
Two big green mitts, and tails on my arm
You in my way my man, yo B excuse me
I didn't call your girl, why accuse me?
I think you're insecure, not sure
if your girlfriend's home, if she's knockin at my door
Back in your ride, no apartment, no place to wash
You can't clean, tell em black
He don't know yet, my discipline, how to act
Stack with film, and twenty-four flicks
You can't win, takin shots like the Knicks
I'm old enough with skills to be your daddy
Go ask grandma, your freaky Aunt Sally
Pretty woman standin there with her ugly man
I don't want to shake his hand

Chorus:
Make up your mind, who you want to pump the butt (6X)
Make up your mind, who you want to pump it
Track Name: Sly We Fly featuring Motion Man
Song: Sly We Fly feat Motion Man

(Kool Keith)
I'm known the phantom with my black mask, MC's go to hell

(Motion Man)
And I'm the obtuse, and a cute guy
I'm known as Motion, Noggin Nodder

(Kool Keith)
My flow is so dark, I open coffins like I'm Dracula

(Motion Man)
And I'm that kid who raps about, who what?
That guy, whatever

Chorus:
Motion Man & (Kool Keith)
We pull the drawers off girls (sly, we fly)
We washin gold and silver (sly, we fly)
We walk in clubs with sneakers (sly, we fly)
We look out windows and stare (sly, we fly)
We fly the planes ourselves (sly, we fly)
And if our records don't sell (sly, we fly)

(Kool Keith)
I put my MASK on, another night for the Phantom
I got the Halloween jack-o-latern
Yo A-Do, I know some kids funny Silly Putty PlayDoh
They wanna step to farms, and bail the hay though
I drag bodies on down the yellow brick road, like leprechaun
I come in comic killer mode
Yo grab your neck and your mail
with a WIC check, parts I inspect my roots
and walk in naked, with spirits and ouija board
I Shake-n-Bake-n-Make it, like Betty Crocker
I use a black marker, I draw your face in a sketch
like a ARTISTE
Two broken arms from his shoulder have a piece
Yum yum, you know you welcome, come in dumb-dumb
Hey what's that smell down there? Look in the basement
Two eyes missin, next day, where your face went?
With Dolly Parton music playin in my pickup truck
My goat sandwich, a swig a liquor chewin duck
I got no taste, no salt, I need mayonnaise
I'm lookin at TV, lookin for good love, and some lovin

Chorus

(Motion Man)
Deckin in chins, to knock a rapper, he's bawlin bro
Off in my Timbs, I makes an exit (scenario)
Is ill I cut the cheese and step on frogs (bizzario)
That's when I'm Superguy
I kicks it akward with terms, I'm patteren-knowledgist
One species ,one kind, one human, three minds, one head
That brother took the alley (I followed him) he's dead
He's dating That Girl Sally (she's awesome) gives head
Say what? Yo Kurt is red, he's just a white guy, I know
He likes marijuana, I like, old english beer
Naked Girls in a sauna, rap and I swerve, (read me my wrongs) bpbpbpbpbpb
Hey buck, I got your phone number I called you hung up
You push * 69, you broke into a cold and hot sweat
That's no address of mine, you reached the mortuary
You're talkin to an empty box, I'm gettin away
I'm gettin away, I'm gettin away

Chorus

Kool Keith & (Motion Man)
I creep in Cutlass, my orange my blue, my black supreme
Then roll by yo six-fo', you buggin lookin mean
(Yeah, we pay no mind to eyeballs, and kids with white-walls)
We got our money in stacks, you bet your checkered shirt
With massive ammo, them fools out there don't want no work
(With massive ammo, them fools out there don't want no work)
This ain't no movie, no play, you in a matinee
I'm watchin screens of your dreams, you actin everyday
Playin a part that you actors can't play
Yo he's perpetratin, gettin burnt like slab bacon

(Motion Man)
My days are numbered nitwit, I work in labs with dog spot
My serum's ill it's liquid, I mix it up in big pot
and takes the top off, and as it drops off
and laughs my ass off, and kicks a mouth of with round off
I wrap a off bob, but serious
I lost my mind, yo help me find it

Chorus

(Kool Keith)
Yeah, changin four gears in tha floor (that's right)
How many you got? (that's right)
What you think about that girl over there?
What you think about the kid comin up the block?
What you think about the kid walkin down the block?
What's that girl name over there?
Wanna Go Swimming?
Gimme a couple bucks, How much we need to take in at the party?
Track Name: Plastic World
Yeah, Kool Keith should keep it real
He should rap about space and Mars.

Yo, I'm tired of looking at everybody. Same boots, skully hats in
90 degree weather, looking to get into clubs for free. I'm not
smoking blunts, or looking for jazz records at the Roosevelt.

I left New York, the city itself was stress depression
Hot boots and urban beats, that wasn't my direction
Producers filtering joining with R&B
A million rappers, some clones trying to sound like me
Writing my space styles, biting my horror-core
All I saw was Kool Keiths on my tour
Record companies I G'd-off all my royalties
Watching vinyl spin, local groups wack MC's
Some try to rap with that perpetratin' mobster crap
Karl Kani jeans, fat stomachs in the limosines
Mixtapes by wack DJ's as doo doo play
I'm on the turnpike, the city drifting down the highway
Like a mirage, the style there is all illusion
On videos out of town, people spot confusion
Rolling high with caps pulled over down my eye
Since I've been out, y'all can't see

Chorus:
Is the world made of plastic?
Is the city buried in dreams? (Yeah)
Is the world made of plastic?
Cause that's the way is seems (Owww)

Watching TV so bored, while imbiciles hold the mic cord
Graffiti playgrounds are played out, yo how that sound?
Army fatigue was weak, it's for the minor league
No rapping cyphers and brothers in the rented Benz
Crews on stage, acting hard with a thousand friends
I saw the place turn plastic, crack heads looping beats
People with no deals, walkmens rappin on the streets
I turned my back, 90% of the city sounded wack
Payola scams switched DJ's like a rubber band
Everybody clear with beats tryin' to be Premier
Clearing your samples, your SP-12 fake examples
My money grosses with green from my own label
While you act rich with no cash on a bigger label
Your tri-state ways are shut down by barricades
In fact I pack my bags, and listen to E-40
Mac Mall, C-Bo, and other rappers you don't know
You're narrow-minded and styles of mind you won't find it
My sound proceeds with moog and undertone bass
No common gimmicks thin beats rapping in my face
I come back real, solid rock razor steel
Tapin' your program, show the world I'm the man
You copy Poppa Large, the industry is foul

Chorus (2x)

As I do see soda wack rugged beer commercials
Some rappers are bought and puppeteered like the Ninja Turtles
From Manhattan I heat up, yo light up Times Square
I make noise like open high hats on your cheap snare
No promotional shows, girls with corn rows
People with hood-sweaters on crack keep me on my toes
I walk with straw hats, and glasses in the projects
Bring my ghost image so tense on the lines of scrimmage
Playing my numbers, waiting for the Five to come
Spaghetti out the window, people acting dumb
Fire hydrants wet, the neighbors, your family's nosy
I come and go as I please on blockhead MC's
You bought sneakers, no car, scrambling on the corner
I'm not the star you are, the city's falling far
By mechanism, you on my tip
Stay off my penis, you duplicated me for years

Yeah, yeah, yeah, you are the one

Chorus (2x)
Track Name: Regular Girl
Yo money
Yeah whassup Kool Keith?
Yo that girl Kadiva gon' come to your house
with.. blonde hair and boots
Tell her rent a cheap room on Sunset Boulevard
for $16.95 - I ain't tryin to get no Modrian no Marriott
or all that higher stuff
Yo we can go one cheaper man
I know somethin for like $10.99 man
It's a hotel with roaches in it and everything
It's almost near skid row

Buttnaked! Girls walk Sunset with they ass out
I start Cadillacs with suits, wear my mask out
With brims tilted, I finger pop the whole block
Make freaks wear wigs, and put the rubbers on my cock
You see me out there, with big balls like Rosie Grier
Players cream, I pull panties out your wet dreams
Get deep in cracks, and wash em out like Mr. Clean
Bring your Massengil, the public think I'm very ill
Like Jimmy Z, posin naked for the FCC
I'm not no basketball star, your girl watch me pee
Clock me like cops, every time my sperm drops
She's in my face with thongs, chewin lollipops
I'll hit that butt on the low, just like Monica
Play three tunes and let her blow on my harmonica
I'm out here, you rollin fake in Union Square
I'll make you go blonde, brunettes run and dye they hair

Chorus (2x)
Regular girl, you're so boring (get out my face)
Regular girl, you never turn me on (word to latex)

You saw my porno flick, nutsacs banged up on your TV
Your girl pulled her panties off real quick, tryin to see me
She wants an autograph, a part with my anal staff
You scream test for AIDS, stretch marks make me laugh
Sign your contracts for Willie, smoke a big Phillie
I'm too old for young girls, gigglin actin silly
I'm Sugar Daddy, your aunt know me word duke
Your moms at my hotel, her bra is real cute
Dressed in G-strings, she's scopin me, eatin fruit
She licked my balls, I came like Niagara Falls
Brought her tickets to Prince show instead of Lou Rawls
Her pelvis grind, she smile show me panty lines
I'll smack that butt, the pro spank it different times
Like Max Steiner hardcore it's on the dirty floor
Make you scream for stiff rods, you don't want no more
Penetration, I don't do that on your menustration
I wind movies back, you smile, addin lubrication
You know your steelo, orgies doin three people
Kodak action, Black Tail, butt satisfaction
You lookin good sweet cheeks..

Chorus (2x)

I turned the Lakers off, you can't stop my afterparty
A fifth of vodka, and latex, drinkin' Bacardi
I serve it well through tubes and watch your rectum swell
Service your clits with steel, machines keep it real
Got that ramrod, that's pumpin through your back hard
You be seein cum stains on Sunset Boulevard
My rubbers and streets send heels off your girl's feets
You not psychadelic wimp, I'm still your girl's pimp
That's part interest, magnificent, mind power
I got nuts that clean kid, let me take my shower
Wash off my pubic, and let the females do my nails
Watch naked legs in chairs and enter soft tails
Wear stockin caps with maps and search for soft cracks
Flip off your hairpeace, while milk spills up on your weave
You know my skin needs butter, your cheeks are popcorn
I get deep, go run in butt like the unicorn
Rodeo anus banger, quick with the middle finger
Her tampons drop down between her Maxi
I left tips for cocked up legs in the taxi
Yo take her home cab driver, here's her panties

Chorus (2x)
Track Name: The Mack Is Back Featuring Sir Menelik
Yeah! We here tonight, live on stage!
Quincy Jones.. James Brown.. Prince.. Madonna..
and of course.. Kool Keith!
Take it away, at the Grand Auditorium!

Now you're up late, can't get no sleep, I'm outside
Cruisin down 5th Ave., makin love in your ride
You want that baby, but I'm out here thinkin maybe
what if you flip - but it's OK when you're on my tip
Take off your shoes, don't spread my business news
Reachin for the rubber tips it's time to pay your dues
Two girls in the back, bring your friend, make it three
It's the big thing honey, that's the policy
I got to pull down and bring the steel home for you
Break the headboards and tell your girlfriends come over too
Put my motorcycle helmet on and feel the power
Rock and lift the boots, spank the lips for a hour

Chorus:
The mack is back, doin good and lookin fly (2X)
Keith is in town, the sho' was good goin down
The mack is back, doin good and lookin fly
Keith is in town, the sho' was good goin down
The mack is back, doin good and lookin fly

I must show up, scope the cheeks well with clientele
When a sister wants to see me, I should I really tell?
I bought some movies, some strippin joint type of coolies
Boots and thongs, girls flip on my theme songs
They know I damage, with gloves my equipment's on
I got a cape, like Superman, I'ma put it on
Grab the vaseline, make your hiney shine like Mr. Clean
With a purple G-string, you wanna do your own thing
Girls dance for me, pumpin over me
Big smith is back, word to honey's crack

Chorus

(phone rings)

Hello, Room 402
What's happenin pizzimp?
Yo whassup?
Yo Menelik, I want you to go down stairs
Get five cases of champagne, order two limousines
Yeah, I got them honies
And check it out yo
Bring five freaks that's ready to do this
Aight, let me just shave, I'll be down in a minute

(Menelik)
Late night, me Trev and Keith, leave the suite
Three limos deep, with honies greet us downstairs
Prepared to take us, anywhere, tonight's the Grammy's
Afterparty back at the hotel, we're poppin expensive Perignon
I'm the suave Don, this is the average evening
of the celebrities, the days are relaxed
It would seem to most, an expensive vacation package
The pay is good, in Hollywood
A hustler has to mack in fresh gear, my choice a Rolls Royce
and a duplex location up at Sunset and LaBrea
I'm mackin in your area

Chorus
Track Name: Still The Best
Yeah American and European, national champion
Kool Keith, you know who I am
The master man, Willie Biggs, big status
Droppin nine-six and seven, big status
Skill.. lotto winners

I taught New York City, the five boroughs how to rap
You can take that back, and pull them thongs our your rectum crack
I'm Poppa Large, big daddy, big penis in a Caddy
Retro petro, I run that whole metro-politan area,
burnin ya, the style is scarin ya
You don't know, and half of y'all brothers can't flow
I'm Texas Swift, down South, they call me Frankie Joe
Keith pushin rigs, Mack trucks, drop off your girl's wigs
I'm strictly business, no gimmicks, a rhymin expert
No common style, or wack logo, cheap hip-hop shirt
You best to be prepared, paperclips, on your mouth
I rock Virginia, tag Atlanta, 95 South
Then hit Miami, let the girls feel my stiff jammy
I'm national kid, girls like the way I dress

Chorus: (repeat 2X)
I'm still the best, I'm still the best, East to West
Joe Kingpin, big stack, money Willie Biggs

Superfly get back, your whole group is Freddie's Dead
Rap style pee stain, like yellow spots on your bed
I'm Jay Gloom, on the strets, still walkin doo doo
You can't stop me, step off, now let your girl jock me
I ride in butts and tail just like a Kawasaki
motorcycles swift with big gloves, I'm here to damage ya
Political styles flop, your child play is amateur
Yo take that word, I rip your anus, youse a herb
I get in rectum, zoom focus on your whole room
Wear green capes and walk in clubs like I'm Dr. Dooom
Handblock double switch monkey style, flying horsemen
Crab leg, walk on top of rappers, then I cross men
I be the Silver Surfer, glidin with a fly leather
With, gold chains, my glasses fog in the rainy weather
We do this like Brutus, I make you say, "Who dis?"
The man on the mic's right, cover your styles tonight
I do my duty destruct, take skin off your booty
Masquerade man is ill, Keith spinnin reel to reel
Who play the numbers tonight? I put six on a five
Shoulda combinated, go 'head baby

Chorus (2X)
Big Willie, Big Willie
Big Willie-heyyyeah-heyyy
Big Willie, Big Willie
Big Willie heiyyyyyy

You're not competition, no joke, I know your kinfolks
That sloppy Gotti style just a bowl of Wheat Oats
No matter how mean or point blank hard you look
I cover my eye, retarded bugged like I'm Captain Hook
Like Vincent Price, I'm nice, I bake and cok you twice
Your crew is rat turd, your parakeet flow is bird
Am i nice yo lick my pubic hair, tell me word
I'm basic nasty, with tight moves, smart like Lassie
Classical winner bass, pumpin while your sound is thinner
I kick back, with drawers off, invite your girl to dinner
Get sexy raw, the champagne pours even more
No forcefield, I rhyme erotic, feel myself on tour
I'm so delicate, countin cash, too intelligent
Yeah, I bought the dream book
Gon' play what I got to play tomorrow. Do this right, yeah

Chorus (2X)
Best, East to West
Best, East to West, Big Willliehaeyyy
Best, East to West
Best, East to West, hooo hoo ho hoooo
Best, East to West
Best, East to West, heyyyy heyy, heyyy heyy, heyyy heyyaheahhh
Track Name: In Your Face
Yo '96 my business gonna be straight...That's word
Niggas out there gonna be wearin' metal plates
Otherwise I just gotta go upstate.

I'll get my manager crazy as hell, he'll pull steel
Show these sheisty people, the sawed off, the pump is real
Then smack niggaz when they don't feel Keith's right direction
Put niggaz in fear, the bullets in they head section
Pick up drug dollars, leave rings around niggaz collars
Front me cash, you catch them bodies, put em in a stash
Never laugh at you, explain plans, what to do
Machine guns on tour, pajama for your soft crew
Don't step to me with shit the candle wax is gettin lit
I'm solo now, and still money I have to fuckin split
Business ain't straight in glamour world, fuckin hellgate
All these things I been through, your skull deserves a metal plate
Not the platinum plaque, just gun staples in your back
Hung from a tree with rusty nails in your rectum crack

Chorus: (3x)
I get personal direct straight, bring it forward
Where? .. IN YOUR FACE! (In yo' face)

For everybody a problem manager
30% get my photo session ready, songs to the fuckin president
I been spendin my ASCAP, waitin out there brain-walkin
up with hit records on feet, in the fuckin rain
Through merry-go-rounds, past politic circus
Then shift flop first, and now it's time that you work this
Suck my ass, we pass on acts if you think they good
Niggaz ain't platinum, they album still, went barely wood
I bring your spirits down, samples now you have to clear it
Niggaz talkin shit like lyric records, I ain't tryin to hear it
Even if I'm deaf no mouth, one fuckin ear left
You think they're worth investments, hold your fuckin breath
You might as well bite Kane, Rakim, study G. Rap
I got some new shit, mental secrets for yo' asscrack
Let me get real, before that ass breach that contract
I got witnesses watchin, statements over budget
Don't try to hide behind that fuckin mask now
Throw the pistols away, and hide the shit in the grass now

Chorus (3x)

I'm sittin quiet with tons of threats, and Baskin-Rob'
Extortion is over, I cock back, you lose your fuckin job
Two years of my time is precious in my kid's mind
With child support, I drag your coffins in the court
We even Steven, fuck that, my time and rent is short
I've been writin songs, I'm calm, I'm a good sport
One year has gone by, with techs jam up in your eye
I'm on some clever shit, fuck it man, go 'head lie
I wake up six o'clock with triggers cocked every morning
I'm no joke, you're bound to smell the fragrance gunsmoke
I'll be scrubbin halls, wipin blood off the office walls

Chorus (4x)

I get personal direct straight, I bring it forward
Where? .. IN YOUR FACE! (In yo' face)

Yeah, yeah
Let's get some fuckin hit records goin right now
East coast to West coast, I don't give a fuck
His shit is wack, their shit is wack
That shit is wack over there
Ain't nuttin fuckin movin'
Get some fuckin bullets on the fuckin charts
Fuck that, let's do this (y'all ain't ready)
Track Name: Keep It Real...Represent '96
Yeah, rappers, spread your cheeks
Pull your panties down
Take your wig off, let me see your bald head
That's right, I got you on Kodak
Your pictures are goin out to Black Tail
You're gonna be a star
Yeah..

I heard you quit rap, your wife went back to porno flicks
You turned drag queen, a call girl doin tricks
Nighttime prostitute kid, I'ma take your loot
I heard you queer now like Boy George, blowin flutes
With high heels, you stole your mom's birth control pills
You on some new stuff, I heard about that sex change
You got a vagina, your grandmother think it's strange
New eyeliner, you was flirtin with a gay designer
Your girl felt mines, and pulled off her Calvin Kleins
I saw Tampax, gonorrhea red stopsigns
I looked at her and said, "Mmm.. put your panties back on"
then jerked off to Foxy Brown, when her verse was on
I wanna stand back and bust nuts at your butts
Your girl is cocked up, with lollipops, doggie style
I feel I'm dealin with plastic, watch these fake smiles
Yeah, meet my left and my right

Chorus: Keep it real.. represent what? My nuts (2X)

I got utensils, back up kid, yo guard your rectum
I'm crazy out here, mental man, don't respect him
You now in pain, your mom just had the abortion
Big head Boo, I put some roaches on your whole crew
Have you scared with crack pipes, your family won't doodoo
Wear out your welcome, your little girl sex desires
Have you handicapped, some friends of mine blow your tires
Like Alfred Hitchcock, the ghost stands on your block
With nine mil's for drug addicts, I keep triggers cocked
You on some methane, my witchcraft is on your brain
Blow out your headpiece, and break out quick on the plane
Seal up your coffins, and celebrate with champagne
Get my drink, Absolut, cranberry juice
Paranoid by rug spots, you see the purple moose
You smokin sherm or what? I paralyze that butt
Lick my d-head, you girls still pee in the bed
Yo take that wig off, yo punk let me see that caesar

Chorus (3X)

(scrotum bag)
I gets more wreck, your rape kids in baby's Pampers
Your wife is banned for leavin bras in my hampers
That heffer's ugly, plastic why you still bug me
I'm on Melrose, The Coast takin sun strolls
Black girls with weaves, white girls with flat butts
With the name H-O-M-O spelled in your name
You was a woman one time, man I know your game
With panties stuck up, sweat leakin in your crotch
Collard greens you wet pig, you can't eat that much
I shut you down, your whole face two o'clock
Have your girl on sunset, in Denny's suckin cock
With white pumps, a blonde wig's rottin in the trunks
That homeless monkey, Barbie doll crystal junkie
I'm no joke and have respect for your kinfolks
Tie your tubes back, my scope is on your asscrack
You got paid for doodoo, that package rap was wack
Yeah yeah, you know what? Yeah

Chorus (4X)

That's right, nine-six and seven (Reverand Tom)
Representin the scrotum (Octagon)
All the hairs under the testicles (SharkMan)
Lick.. (Kool Keith)
Yeah, don't buy The Basement Tapes
Sheisty things going on, somebody's on the pipes
Labels foldin, goin down ninety-six
Nobody play the records
City's out, no Tuff, Tuff.. Pity
Track Name: Little Girls
Yo Keith man just turned off the TV man
Kids out there be thinkin they hardcore man
I'm a do somethin man, yo bet

Chorus: Little girls think they're hardcore (4X)

You got nine cars, tons of champagne, by the cases
Two thousand people killed, fake murder cases
Videos exaggerate things you never make
Your style is all tissue, chocolate fudge cream cake
The companies back you, people out there wanna slap you
Original fraud, funny with a mic cord
Persuadin kids that you hard, every stage you tour
Cold scared you in a motel, you can't come out
After the show, with panties on, you hurry run out
You petrified hallucinatin thinkin hardcore
You got the style now, you have to roll with 50 people
Lookin hard and mean, you ain't pullin triggers
Did you pay your bodyguards, for actin hard?
You get pistol-whipped, booty tapped, face scarred
Down and out, with camouflage gear, and no war
You ain't in the army kid.

Chorus (3X)

Now your show's packed up, you're gassed up
I'm there you're scared
You just turned twat, looked away feelin weird
You on the walkie talkie standin close near the door
Thinkin bout your records how you pop doo-doo more
Posses wait in Texas, Detroit for the bumrush
You bringin rah rah, your crew is nervous smokin dust
You perpetrate your fronts, show your teeth, smokin blunts
Rappers cancel shows, ran away with stunts
Your manager scared, with ghetto mugs starin at him
Your crew pressured more, to even act harder
You took New York, down South them folks, wasn't havin that
Three kids from D.C. pulled out, what you laughin at?
You ran out, funny style, girl style, panty style
Freestyle the same style last week
you was bitin off that kid Bo Peep
With no panties on, your rectum got torn
Rearranged, I caught you after the show
Naked out, butt out, cracked out, with two rolls of film
Tryin to sell pictures of your lover
with you, molestin your little brother
I smacked you and stole your pistols

Chrous (4X)

Tommy, didn't I raise you to go to Catholic school?
But mom, I gotta keep this up, this is all a front
It's just gimmicks to sell my records
The people don't have to know
I mean really, that's just me, even though we're soft
Me and my friends all of us
We just make money, that's all, it's a gimmick
Track Name: Lovely Lady
Chorus: Lovely lady, girl you drive me crazy

I know this girl with her own crib, in isolation
She's from Puerto Rico, half-black on vacation
Fine freak with thongs on, want me every week
Panties in service, the big tools make her nervous
Hey Boo, here's lollipops, I'ma give 'em too you
Bang you nice backdoors, I'ma scrape ya floors
Look at your personal, silk on the camcorder
Then hit bedsprings, my thumb's on the tape recorder
With big cups of Cristal, I'ma spank her well
If I lick you there, my girlfriend, I'ma tell
Rock your boots, and leave my style written on your cooch
With rubber demands, condoms in your soft hands
I got plans for booty work to catch a lapdance
That skirt is workin, and by myself, I be jerkin...on to the chorus
I want that purple Cadillac with the lime green ragtop, yeah

Chorus: (3X)

She got me open, like two big scoops of Raisin Bran
Watchin adult films, I'm part time her freak man
Hangin' high she's cute, I got my mask on my eye
Lickin splits that switch and change her whole voice pitch
"Ayyy papi, why you go so low?"
I got scuba divin skills, the pro, stay below
Authorizin a sign, she reflects with pantylines
She got her hair done, apartment two the girl is mines
Strippin down the pants, she's wearin spandex
flower dresses, the booty to the max apex
I'm on my way, with Guinness Stout everyday
Jodeci tapes, H-Town, not bringing Four Play
Couches are plush, no quickies ladies don't rush
You know my flavor, lubricated bareback
Torjans get live, you melt down, when I tap the sack
Like Kojak, detective, I got your contraceptive
I know your perspective, you get picked, I'm selective
Rubbin you down, in baths, Calgon bound
You lookin sexy smilin, in that soft nightgown
Baby love it when I blow bubbles, kiss her stomach
She's a dimepiece, I popped up, on the East
The lady is ready, tell Duke I'ma rock her steady

Chorus (3X)

Tight BM, she wanna give me her W
Take me shoppin, do what I want to, do it when I want to do
I play the game right, work out that back tonight
Disco lights beam, dancin a Salsa
She got her lingerie on, sippin on Elsa
Emotional status, I'm puttin tongues to the baddest
Bitin the peaches, cherries open on the beaches
I got her turned out, screamin in the bleachers
Eatin Padellas, her friends are mad gettin jealous
Blockin my great view, some knucklehead's down too
Who is it Wizard? I got the address I'ma visit
Go down solo, she work at night, at the GoGo
New York City Ampex, she pays for my reels
She's in Miami, her pockets with tons of bills
She lookin good comin from work
I hope she bought me a pair of them expensive Maury Aligators

Chorus (4X)
Track Name: Get Off My Elevator (Bonus Track)
Get off my elevator
(Security will escort you out the building)
Get off my elevator
(That woman is very nosey)

(Get off)
I choose my subjects, personal man, that's what I want to write
Critics critique, I compel that gossip rap is weak
'97 I'm blacked out, who's paying all my rent?
Larger than hip-hop, you watch me like the president
No feedback on R&B scams motivate me
With stretch marks around your gut plus I know you hate me
Guard your feet, lose celulite, I'm a come complete
Work off your meat pounds with super sonic stomach sounds
That's word to horse, animal heads, stupid fly gorilla
I get pro-vexed, on ghetto clicks I get iller
Guard giraffe mics, my style shine like zebra stripes
Right in your forehead, my word becomes a real missle
I be hanging in back doors like rolls toilet tissue
Hydrolic engines blow flies out your left window
Your rap is catnip with slob dropping on the pillow
Shut your face, shut your mouth like pigeons floying south
I'm rolling rampart, the bottoms kid where you start
Get off my two sacks, light your pipes, load your crack

Get off my elevator!
(Security will escort you out the building)
Get off my elevator!
(That woman is nosey, trying to find out business)
Get off my elevator!
(Security will escort you out my building)
Get off my elevator!
(That woman is nosey, trying to find out more business)

You're rapping tackey, your whole wardrobe, your colored food stamps
Department of agriculture scheming like a vulture
I burn your sideburns off on tracks like John Shaft
You be counting your pubic hairs tryin' deal with math
Like mascot, you front your ashy face in Black Beat
Studio plastic melts panties sweating street heat
I'll be there like Vladimir packing in your ear
Dr. Smith, Will Robinson make you say "Oh dear"
I take your tour bus, treat you like infested puss
Lima beans 'il drop down and grease your dirty jeans
National thunderstorms, step up and stop ya power
Your records hot milk like yogurt and you smell sour
Get my reels, Ampex, a-DAT system flex
You got polio knees, lock fell on Soul Train
Dancin' with Anorex, punks I'll flip your brain
Like Don Cornelious, I hide behind the scenes
Make you lick my hot dogs with ketchup on two beans
I censorship real quick and feed your family cabbage
Make you throw-up eat ham hocks, tuna out the garbage
Wind your range with tones, your radio sounds strange
Eat out your rare back, snatch ribs out your wild coyote
Tell Bob to pay me, the company boss still owe me
But Capitol built walls, built fences
I come for my check, don't lower your defenses (Ha, Ha, Ha...)

Get off my elevator!
(Security will escort you out my building)
Get off my elevator!
(You are very nosey and un-highclassed)
Get off my elevator!
(Security will definitely esort you away from my building)
Get off my elevator!
(You'll be shipped away in a cop car)

Elevation, upon elevation beyond elevation past
Elevation, elevation, past elevation
Elevation, elevators elevating elevation