| Song | Musical Massacre |
| Artist | Eric B. & Rakim |
| Album | Follow The Leader |
| 作词 : Griffin | |
| How could | |
| I keep my composure | |
| When all sorts of thoughts fought for exposure? | |
| Release, then veins in the brains increase | |
| When I let off, make a wish and blow the smoke off my piece | |
| Unloadin, unfold and the rhymes are explodin | |
| And the mic that | |
| I'm holdin' golden | |
| Cordless cause the wire caught fire like a fuse | |
| Gunpowder and the slightest bruise is a friction | |
| The outcome is there so listen | |
| Here's the brief description | |
| A boom then flame then smoke, ashes a dust to dust | |
| Contact is compact when | |
| I bustMC's are now in a massacre | |
| A disaster a, master at fashion a beat to death | |
| To a pulp, till it can't pump | |
| Speakers aint sayin nothin | |
| Now the ball can thump | |
| As I'm lookin' | |
| I stand like great buildings in | |
| BrooklynThen the stage is took then | |
| Havoc struck that could product a whole court | |
| Keep in touch with the mic when you're holdin y'all | |
| Sumpin and pumpin and slobbin and droolin | |
| Nothin's pumpin, who do you think ya foolin? | |
| Tommy Tucker, the neighborhood sucker | |
| What you oughtta do, is pick up a tempo | |
| From what | |
| I invent, so hard not to bite, but you can't prevent so | |
| You start to kidnap | |
| I watch the kid rap | |
| When he get off he know he shouldn't a did that | |
| Minor, old timer, weak rhymer, stay in liner | |
| You won't be inclined to go so yo | |
| Maybe later, you're gonna be | |
| But for now, you're almost one of me | |
| Now the immature imitations taken from originations | |
| So perform, | |
| If ya still aint warm maybe after | |
| A roast by the host with the most it's a musical massacre | |
| Never tired, don't even try it, keep quiet | |
| Like a storm, you could rain, but a riot | |
| Remains, the gangs power just like the towerin inferno | |
| The beat's gonna burn so | |
| Distance I kept, ou better watch your step | |
| Volunteers go from here and get | |
| Ya out of the flames | |
| Appreciate the temperature change | |
| Anywhere within the range of celcius | |
| Fahrenheit on the mic, mic melts see it | |
| Burns soon as it's felt see it's torchin, scorchin | |
| Mic's pipin hot, steamin who's schemin now ya not | |
| James Brown must a been dusted | |
| Disgusted, now he can't be trusted | |
| Embalmed with fluid | |
| Static can cause an explosion, in fact impact's closin in | |
| Time was up, so | |
| I don't need a time bomb | |
| Beat gives me a heat-stroke when | |
| I rhyme calm | |
| Pull out the tool, sometimes | |
| I wanna break fool | |
| But I was cool, like one in the chamber | |
| Lets play a game of rhymin roulette | |
| And put me up to your brain and name a rhyme about ya clout | |
| One mistake, ya out | |
| If this imitation it can't be the same show | |
| Maybe what you'll find somewhere over the rainbow | |
| Courage, heart, brain, you need rhyme | |
| Turn on your mic, snap your fingers three times | |
| We gone, or the story won't end the same | |
| And you'll feel the flame | |
| The potion was weak, make another antidote | |
| Whats the science? why can't ya quote? | |
| Elements for musical intelligence | |
| Rhymes are irrelevant, no development | |
| And that settles it | |
| Go manufacture a match, send me after a blast | |
| From the master that has to make musical massacre |
| zuò cí : Griffin | |
| How could | |
| I keep my composure | |
| When all sorts of thoughts fought for exposure? | |
| Release, then veins in the brains increase | |
| When I let off, make a wish and blow the smoke off my piece | |
| Unloadin, unfold and the rhymes are explodin | |
| And the mic that | |
| I' m holdin' golden | |
| Cordless cause the wire caught fire like a fuse | |
| Gunpowder and the slightest bruise is a friction | |
| The outcome is there so listen | |
| Here' s the brief description | |
| A boom then flame then smoke, ashes a dust to dust | |
| Contact is compact when | |
| I bustMC' s are now in a massacre | |
| A disaster a, master at fashion a beat to death | |
| To a pulp, till it can' t pump | |
| Speakers aint sayin nothin | |
| Now the ball can thump | |
| As I' m lookin' | |
| I stand like great buildings in | |
| BrooklynThen the stage is took then | |
| Havoc struck that could product a whole court | |
| Keep in touch with the mic when you' re holdin y' all | |
| Sumpin and pumpin and slobbin and droolin | |
| Nothin' s pumpin, who do you think ya foolin? | |
| Tommy Tucker, the neighborhood sucker | |
| What you oughtta do, is pick up a tempo | |
| From what | |
| I invent, so hard not to bite, but you can' t prevent so | |
| You start to kidnap | |
| I watch the kid rap | |
| When he get off he know he shouldn' t a did that | |
| Minor, old timer, weak rhymer, stay in liner | |
| You won' t be inclined to go so yo | |
| Maybe later, you' re gonna be | |
| But for now, you' re almost one of me | |
| Now the immature imitations taken from originations | |
| So perform, | |
| If ya still aint warm maybe after | |
| A roast by the host with the most it' s a musical massacre | |
| Never tired, don' t even try it, keep quiet | |
| Like a storm, you could rain, but a riot | |
| Remains, the gangs power just like the towerin inferno | |
| The beat' s gonna burn so | |
| Distance I kept, ou better watch your step | |
| Volunteers go from here and get | |
| Ya out of the flames | |
| Appreciate the temperature change | |
| Anywhere within the range of celcius | |
| Fahrenheit on the mic, mic melts see it | |
| Burns soon as it' s felt see it' s torchin, scorchin | |
| Mic' s pipin hot, steamin who' s schemin now ya not | |
| James Brown must a been dusted | |
| Disgusted, now he can' t be trusted | |
| Embalmed with fluid | |
| Static can cause an explosion, in fact impact' s closin in | |
| Time was up, so | |
| I don' t need a time bomb | |
| Beat gives me a heatstroke when | |
| I rhyme calm | |
| Pull out the tool, sometimes | |
| I wanna break fool | |
| But I was cool, like one in the chamber | |
| Lets play a game of rhymin roulette | |
| And put me up to your brain and name a rhyme about ya clout | |
| One mistake, ya out | |
| If this imitation it can' t be the same show | |
| Maybe what you' ll find somewhere over the rainbow | |
| Courage, heart, brain, you need rhyme | |
| Turn on your mic, snap your fingers three times | |
| We gone, or the story won' t end the same | |
| And you' ll feel the flame | |
| The potion was weak, make another antidote | |
| Whats the science? why can' t ya quote? | |
| Elements for musical intelligence | |
| Rhymes are irrelevant, no development | |
| And that settles it | |
| Go manufacture a match, send me after a blast | |
| From the master that has to make musical massacre |