mc zappa – the jam lyrics
kick it!
[verse 1: mc zappa]
eternally blessed; i son all rappers wit’ no paternity test
when i’m smashin’, my mains are neither kirby or ness
i’m so sick of the suckers with the poor prose
that i gotta go off like a wh-r-’s clothes
you know my sound is heavier than a cinder block
all eyes are on me when i begin to rock
listen to the b-ss explode like a bombsh-ll
somebody’s always watchin’ me ‘cuz i rock well
no need to wonder why i’m in the public eye
it’s cut and dry; ‘cuz i’m funkier than funka fize
i’m at the top of the cl-ss, and i set the curve
thinkin’ you could step to me? where did you get the nerve?
mcs can’t get a moment of peace, yo
’cuz they all wonderin’ when the flowin’ will cease
like epmd, i’m handlin’ business
and you know that this, is the jam!
[chorus]
(scratched) jam!
(scratched let me hear you say—
(scratched) jam!
(scratched) jam!
[verse 2: mc zappa]
i’m so ill, you can never develop a cure
so the rhymes are always dope; you can bet it for sure
wit’ my technique, i wreck weak toys and suckas
and i’m guaranteed to bring both the noise and ruckus
zen pen; i write rhymes of infinite depth
try to bite, and you’ll be dead before you finish the breath
my rhyme scheme is so sharp, you’ll get impaled
don’t even try to step to me, because ya sh-t’s stale
i go below the surface like a submarine
you can call me a soul surgeon ‘cuz my cuts are clean
the flex is a guillotine; i’m slicin’ appendages
crematin’ wit’ rhymes; they say i’m nice with the sentences
i be cookin’ mcs like hash browns
so you better back up unless you tryna get smacked down
i’m playin’ sucka mcs out like a baby grand; the ladies’ man
mc zappa be makin’ crazy jams
[chorus]
(scratched) jam!
(scratched) let me hear you say—
(scratched) jam!
(scratched) jam!
[verse 3: mc zappa]
so many suckas’ rhymes are weaker than styrofoam
so i’m strikin’ fear and commandeerin’ the microphone
and of course, i slam it hard like a charizard
and blast toys who think i’m somethin’ to play wit’
it’s all a game, and i am the protagonist
of the jam; another one of zappa’s h-ts
this record just ain’t like no other
my flow so smooth, ya can’t believe it ain’t b-tter
d-mn; i’m goin’ in like i got a curfew
not a waiter, but if you want beef, i’ll serve you
bringin’ h-ll like halloween, but this ain’t a trick-or-treat
for me to defeat sucka mcs is a simple feat
yo, i got more rhymes than shonda
and d-mn, it’s just so scandalous
i’m gettin’ away wit’ murder on the microphone
i’ll strike ya dome wit’ my bit-hop beats; this is the jam
[chorus]
(scratched) jam!
(scratched) let me hear you say—
(scratched) jam!
(scratched) jam!
(scratched) jam!
[breakdown]
too much phunk, too much phunk, too mu-
too much phunk, too much phunk, too mu-
too much phunk, too much phunk, too mu-
too much phunk, too much phunk, too mu-
too much phunk, too much phunk, too mu-
too much phunk, too much phunk, too mu-
too much phunk, too much phunk, too mu-
too much phunk, too much phunk, too mu-
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