HYBRID SNICKS MAGAZINE

In case you were wondering were they SAMPLED the beat from just press play….

Q: Back in the days on the boulevard of Linden,
we used to kick routines and presence was fittin’.
It was I the abstract
P: And me the five footer.
I kicks the mad style so step off the frankfurter.
Q: Yo, Phife, you remember that routine
that we used to make spiffy like mister clean?
P: Um um, a tidbit, um, a smidgen.
I don~t get the message so you gots to run the pigeon.
Q: You on point Phife?
P: All the time, tip.
Q: You on point Phife?
P: All the time, tip.
Q: You on point Phife?
P: All the time, tip.
Q: Well, then grab the microphone and let your words rip.
P: Now here’s a funky introduction of how nice I am.
Tell your mother, tell your father, send a telegram.
I’m like an energizer ’cause, you see, I last long.
My crew is never ever wack because we stand strong.
Now if you say my style is wack that’s where you’re dead wrong.
I slayed that body in El Segundo then push it along.
You’d be a fool to reply that Phife is not the man
’cause you know and I know that you know who I am.
A special shot of peace goes out to all my pals, you see.
And a middle finger goes for all you punk MC’s.
‘Cause I love it when you wack MC’s despise me.
They get vexed, I roll next, can~t none contest me.
I’m just a fly MC who’s five foot three and very brave.
On job remaining, no I’m chaining cause I misbehave.
I come correct in full effect have all my hoes in check.
And before I get the butt the jim must be erect.
You see, my aura~s positive I don’t promote no junk.
See, I’m far from a bully and I ain’t a punk.
Extremity in rhythm, yeah that’s what you heard.
So just clean out your ears and just check the word.

via: karmaloop

Microphone Fiend (verse 1)

I was a fiend before I became a teen
I melted microphone instead of cones of ice cream
Music orientated so when hip-hop was originated
Fitted like pieces of puzzles, complicated
’cause I grabbed the mic and try to say, " yes y’all!"
They tried to take it, and say that I’m too small
Cool, ’cause I don’t get upset
I kick a hole in the speaker, pull the plug, then I jet
Back to the lab ...without a mic to grab
So then I add all the rhymes I had
One after the other one, then I make another one
To dis the opposite then ask if the brother’s done
I get a craving like I fiend for nicotine
But I don’t need a cigarette, know what I mean?
I’m raging, ripping up the stage and
Don’t it sound amazing ’cause every rhyme is made and
Thought of, cuz it’s sort of...an addiction,
Magnatized by the mixing
Vocals, vocabulary, your verses, you’re stuck in
The mic is a drano, volcanoes erupting,
Rhymes overflowing, gradually growing
Everything is written in the cold, so it can coin-
Cide, my thoughts to guide,
48 tracks to slide
The invincible, microphone fiend rakim
Spread the word, ’cause I’m in
E-f-f-e-c-t
A smooth operator operating correctly,
But back to the problem, I gotta habit,
You can’t solve it, silly rabbit
The prescription is a hypertone that’s thorough when
I fiend for a microphone like herion
Soon as the bass kicks, I need a fix
Gimme a stage and a mic and a mix
And I’ll put you in a mood or is it a state of
Unawareness?  beware, it’s the reanamator!
A menace to a microphone, a lethal weapon
An assasinator, if the people ain’t stepping
You see a part of me that you never seen
When I’m fiending for a microphone, I’m the microphone fiend...

 

one word…. CLASSIC

This joint has sooo much flavor! This is from the era when it was dope to have lyrics over an ill beat… please enjoy!!!!

SG-Shock has posted a very yellow classic G-Shock. This one is really a DW-5600C-1 with a band and bezel from a DW-5600C-9B band and bezel. These spare parts are not easy to find nowadays. It’s great to see this one in such nice condition.

via: mygshock

“It Ain’t Hard To Tell”

It ain’t hard to tell, I excel, then prevail
The mic is contacted, I attract clientele
My mic check is life or death, breathin a sniper’s breath
I exhale the yellow smoke of buddha through righteous steps
Deep like The Shinin’, sparkle like a diamond
Sneak a uzi on the island in my army jacket linin
Hit the Earth like a comet, invasion
Nas is like the Afrocentric Asian, half-man, half-amazin
Cause in my physical, I can express through song
Delete stress like Motrin, then extend strong
I drank Moet with Medusa, give her shotguns in hell
From the spliff that I lift and inhale, it ain’t hard to tell

The buddha monk’s in your trunk, turn the bass up
Not stories by Aesop, place your loot up, parties I shoot up
Nas, I analyze, drop a jew-el, inhale from the L
School a fool well, you feel it like braille
It ain’t hard to tell, I kick a skill like Shaquille holds a pill
Vocabulary spills I’m +Ill+
plus +Matic+, I freak beats slam it like Iron Shiek
Jam like a tech with correct techniques
So analyze me, surprise me, but can’t magmatize me
Scannin while you’re plannin ways to sabotage me
I leave em froze like her-on in your nose
Nas’ll rock well, it ain’t hard to tell