M.O.P. [Rap]

"I would like to play a.. little tune I just composed not so long ago"
"Ms. Billie, Ms. Billie, Ms. Billie Holiday"
*HORNS*
*drum roll* *piano keys played*
*HORNS*
"Byrd..?" *trumpet solo* *group horns*
"The music called jazz.." -) Guru
*HORNS*

[Guru]
It's roots are in the sounds of the African
or should I say the mother.. bringin us back again
From the drummin on the Congo, we came with a strong flow
and continue to grow
Feet move, to the beat of the t'balo
Now dig the story and follow
For then it landed, on American soil
Through the sweat, the blood, and the toil
Hear, "Praise the Lord," shouted on chain gangs
Pain they felt, but it helped them to maintain
Scott Joplin's rags, Bessie Smith's blues
St. Louis blues, they were all the news
Ringin smooth.. in all the listeners ears
Fulfillin the needs, and plantin the seeds
of a jazz thing

King Oliver's group was a train comin through
to Chicago, bringin the New Orleans groove
And when Satchmo blew, the audience knew
Basil Street blues was the whole house tune
it was music.. great to dance to
Great to romance to with a lot to say to you
Relaying a message, revealing the essence
of a jazz thing

* DJ Premier cuts "jazz music" *

In the 40's came be-bop, the first be-bop
The real be-bop, so let me talk about
Diz' and Byrd, givin the word
Defining how a beat could be so complete
Playing with ferocity, thinkin with velocity
About ornathology, or anthropology
and even ?, and this is real history
Theolonious Monk, a melodious thunk
No mistakes were made with the notes he played
His conception, was ?re condite?
A star glowing bright among dim lights
The critics did cite that he sounded alright
Charlie Mingus, such nimble fingers
Droppin the bass, all over the place
and Max Roach, cymbals socking
Bass drum talking, snare drum rocking
Restructuring.. the metaphysics
of a jazz thing

John Coltrane, a man supreme
He was the cream.. he was the wise one
The impression of Afro Blue
and of the promise, that was not kept
He was a GIANT step, and there was Ornette Coleman
He was another soul man
The original invisible, playing great music
I wonder why the ?Bangles? couldn't use it
Now listen see
The real mystery is how music history
created by white men or any other white man
that pretended he originated "uh-huh.."
and contended that he innovated "uh-huh.."
a jazz thing
("Of course we know who can really blow")
Scheamin on the meaning
of a jazz thing

And this music ain't dead, so don't be misled
by those who said that jazz was on it's deathbed
Cause when Betty Carter sings a song
ain't nuttin goin on, but simply good music
And you won't refuse it
She's takin her time, makin the nuances rhyme
Sonny Rollins, tenor saxophone
with a big old tone, recitin poems
with notes as words, and haven't you heard
NEXT STOP BUTTER, RIGHT PAST OLEO
Now there's young cats blowin
And more and more people, yes they will be knowin
Jazz ain't the past, this music's gonna last
and as the facts unfold, remember who foretold
The 90's, will be the decade of
a jazz thing "I love jazz music" (3X)

* Primo scratches "I love jazz music" *

A jazz thing..

Time to duck, fire
Duck, fire, duck, fire
Duck, fire, duck, FIYAAAAAAAHHH!

(U Dont know what you're doing, doing, doing, doing)

It's the MOP(Yes) 1, 1, 2, 3, 3
And motherfucker we comin, 100 miles and gunnin
I'm still runnin with cash that's robbed
From the era of exhale 80's and hats back stomp
(SAME GAME!) operation for this industry lockdown
We still tote hammers that go BLOCKOWWWW
Run up if you wanna, believe me dog
These hammers with they owners, fuck ya G up
Have ya with blue 'jamas in a coma, and
Ya family now moan, look, 70 pounds gone
A little fuck, scribbled up with a hospital down on
(WE HOLDIN IT DOWN HOLMES!)keep pushin weak frail bastards
To get over, we prowl with slimmer re-shelled tactics
Jiminy frail bastards, your tracks need tune-ups
No limit, what the fuck, recordin for nig' junior
(The game aint changed)it just got harder
Plus we sponsored by laz' Dame Dash and Mr. S. Carter
Brownsville(yep), we stomp in this bitch all day
Rock with my cock out, face the crowd and piss off stage

Uh, Uh, Uh, I'm from the G side of thangs
Where we ride and bang, where the heat died of flame
That's how we got the name(WARRIORS!)
And better than ya bank, and someone should be tellin 'em
The veterans have came, and we're better in the game
(YOU BETTER MAKE IT RAIN!) "27 grams" my man
It's better than cocaine, now everything will change
In this family we'll rule the world
And you haters can eat a dick up till you hiccup and erm
A decade on the grind, nigga I paid mine
So it's my time to shine and for you can ride the pine
I wont sit back and rap like these dumb ass kids
I been around, I put it down, I aint these young ass kids
(MOP!) The OG's repped and survived around this motherfucka
(FIRST FAMILY!) We kept it live around this motherucka
When it's crunch time, we do it our wizzay
For shizzle my nigga, learn to grip pistols and BK

WHOOOOOOO!!!!!!
Turn my music high, high, high, high-er
Mo' fire, mo' problems, more Roc-a-wear attire
Mo' money, mo' murder now that M.O.P.'s hired
Mo' murder for the ROC empire, ya'll wont surface
Ya'll nervous knowin them guns on full service, ready to fire
One body, two body, three body, four
Young sittin on paper, I'm above the law
Young shittin on haters, I aint fuckin with ya'll
For my Brownsville neighbors, How About Some Hardcore?
And it just get worser, every time I write my signature in
cursive
Just add another million to these verses
One million, two million, three million, four
And the money's really worthless, I'm pissing you off on
purpose
My nephew's situated, and my mama's straight
So I'm ready for whatever drama should come our way
And you fuckers rappin to me, so your drama is fake
Ya'll niggas is noodles, I got more fetti to bake
Let's get it!