Beatnuts - Originate lyrics
rate me(I originate)--> Greg Nice<br />
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[ VERSE 1: Large Professor ]<br />
It started off one '89 morning<br />
Prepared to bumrush this spot without warning<br />
Dufflebagged up, we was there to conduct<br />
Our bidness, clear it and never leave a eye witness<br />
Barry White triplets, I'm grabbin em<br />
Plus the Eddie Floyd Stax album in the back by the bathroom<br />
Knowin all this shit no one knows<br />
Way before radio played "Throw them bo's"<br />
We was out there gettin em<br />
Beats, plus spittin em<br />
Bars, I'm Large, about the streets, I'm hittin em<br />
Junkyard Psycho style<br />
Keep them chickens from back there because they might go wild<br />
Wants to get quick dose of this, try on ferocious<br />
Blow and pow like 4th of July explosives<br />
30 day notices gettin sent out<br />
To all you greaseball rappers, this is world renowned<br />
<br />
(I originate)<br />
<br />
[ VERSE 2: Psycho Les ]<br />
It's the originator<br />
(Who got the funk?) Not the imitator<br />
You just a french fry, I'm a hot potato<br />
Big Psych, the drunken operator<br />
Computer data broadcastin live from the buddha chamber<br />
Future Flavas, so turn it up<br />
Aiyo, that new Beatnuts shit is burnin up<br />
Charts across the global, my vocal's<br />
Like a yodel, Large Pro showed up<br />
With three plates of soul food<br />
Funk tracks, on point like thumb tacks<br />
It's the raw, baby, bangin out of drum pads<br />
Like oh, shorty asked me if I sniff blow<br />
I told her hell no, I just puff 'dro<br />
What's my muthafuckin name - Psycho<br />
Junkyard and my nigga Large Pro<br />
-fessor break it down like<br />
<br />
(I originate)<br />
<br />
[ VERSE 3: JuJu ]<br />
It's Big Ju, I come through with the final component<br />
Loaded and ready, just right for the moment<br />
Serve it up raw, uncut and quite potent<br />
Niggas still sleep with the do' and lights open<br />
Me I dig deep, real deep in the earth<br />
Find the right records, be freakin em first<br />
Some say it's an addiction, some say it's a curse<br />
I'm married to this beat shit for better or worse<br />
I hustle till the work is gone<br />
Go in the booth, get on the mic, go bezerk, it's on<br />
Then whip up the perfect song<br />
Cause really, if it ain't about the music then the shit's just wrong
