Текст песни: I Get Wrecked + перевод

The Boogie Down boys are gonna get ya KRS One: That’s right boye, you are now jammin to the sounds of the Boogie Down

Hit em like this, hoooooooo

Tim Dog (KRS-One in parenthesis)

Yeah, yeah, yeah, can I get a yes (yes)

Can I get another one, yes (yes)

Do I get wreck and get respect (yes)

Lyrically I can get wreck (yes), ha hah

Well can I get a ho (ho)

Can I get another one, ho (ho)

Do I get wreck at any show (ho)

Lyrically I got the flow (ho), there ya go One: KRS-One

What does KRS and Tim Dog have in common

We both hate corny ass soft commercial rhyme

I don’t sound like Phyllis Simon or the Wynans

I rock Central Park but do not mistake me for Paul Simon

I can’t hear nothin but wreck, do not force me I can’t hear Fred Astaire sharin Tommy Dorsey you lost me Pure hip-hop rhymes beats I see

Singers dressed like rappers kickin love songs you can keep

Give me the boom bap when I kick my rap

No need for background singers and dancers, fuck all that

What you see you see, what you hear you hear

When you cheer and you cheer, I’m every fresh MC’s nightmare

The instrumental is fundamentally essential

When I practice I get sharp like a pencil

But the pencil’s made of oak, so don’t provoke

You’ll get broke, whaddya take I for a joke?

I’m radical, mathematical if I have static I’ll

Pick up the mic or automatic either way I won’t have it I cover the whole gamit

Mic I’ll rap it leaving with your ass out like a faggot

This is a losing battle your like cattle

The sound of my name KRS makes your tail waggle

Better yet you’re a snake so it rattles

I’ll dice you up like you’re apple, smash you into Snapple

I’m not, the one you wanna battle that bad

Or just give me your ass I’ll make a shoulder bag

I bring the blade all around

By the time I’m done you’ll be $ 2.99 a pound

Two: Tim Dog

Coming from the butcher shop

Fuck with KRS and the Dog and get chopped

Chopped, say stopped, hah think stopped

Stop listen to the hip-hop while others slip-slop

Till they hit the tip-top now it’s time to get props

Wack MC’s I just tax

I’ll eat tracks shit it out with Ex-Lax

Bitch ass niggaz step aside

Tenderoni rappers, means your homicide

Toyin non-believers, here’s the menace side

Shit aside, come inside, you’re goin on a murder ride

I’m energetical theoretical copastetical alphabetical

Hypothetical yeah that is cool, no I’m not a fool

Takin you to school, don’t be late for school, fool

I’m suckin your girl while your ass in school

Fool, why bother drool, cause I’m too cool

I’m the man with lyrics that jam

Kickin MC’s in the face like Van Damme

Shazam, hot damn, thank you ma’am

Don’t eat Spam or no types of ham

You thought I fell off? You’re smokin somethin

You thought I was soft? You on dope or somethin

You must be on a can of dope and dog food

You actin real rude, don’tcha know I’m Tim Dog dude?

So go ahead and flex, if you got necks

But when I get the mic I get wreck

So come on, come on, come on, come on

I’ll eat that ass that’s word is born

Rarrrrrgh!

Tim Dog (KRS-One in parenthesis)

Can I get a yes (yes)

Can I get another one, yes (yes)

Do I get wreck and get respect (yes)

Are you the king the K the R the S (ohhh yes)

Well can I get a ho (ho)

Can I get another one, ho (ho)

Do I get wreck at any show (ho)

Lyrically I got the flow (ho), there ya go Three: KRS-One

Now don’t say nuttin while I’m checkin ya Causin hysteria been in more battles than America

Rap messanger, comin in quick I pick up the mizick and watch em stagger

Rip another and watch his body splatter

Whether you like me or not don’t matter, Kris is not a actor

I’ll burn your favorite rapper and leave him in stitches

Weak bitches, real renegade rap rebels rip rhymes

Ferociously, which one of these pussy MC’s can go at me

So if you wish to play me like a farmer

I get calmer, chop ya ass up like Jeffrey Dahmer

My pyschopathic fantastic pathic puts you in a casket

On top of that, you can get your ass kicked

Quick, awww shit

(undecipherable)

And I got more rhymes than Madonna gets dick

And I’m the lyrical lunatic, that flips offness with the quickness

Yo I get heated like cough menthalyptus now

The micraphone I must feel it I must touch it up Kris One and Tim Dog’s come to fuck it up Evidentally I bust shots till the glock is empty

No safety, pull the trigger tip don’t try to chase me Down, chase the sound you must be buggin

This is Boogie Down, Boogie Down, Boogie Down

Boogie Down Boogie Down Produc-tions

Jump around be the one is the function

Tim Dog, why don’t you show em a little somethin

Four: Tim Dog

Baby baby um, maybe maybe um You better run, cause you know I have a gun

Bang bang boogie, up jumps the boogie

Take that bullshit rap down the street

A skippedy be bop be bop, Scooby Doo

That bullshit’s not me, that bullshit is you

I come correct, get much respect

Do some hummina hummina shit, and still get wreck

Cause I’m the Dog, the muthafuckin Dog ya hear

I’m the Dog, the muthafuckin Dog ya hear

MC’s come close but never could get near

Cause I just smash, throwin keys through glass

Take his cash, whip his ass, and do a yard dash

So take your ass home, write a poem

And when you get nice, use the god damn phone

Cause I get buckwild, do some ole freestyle

And beat ya down with the turnstile

Doggie doggie bo boggie fanana fanna fo foggie

Me mi mo moggie, doggie

Rappers goin platinum doin this bullshit

I do the same shit, and make a big hit

Cause if you don’t like my lyrical flow

I gotta make dough, don’tcha know, ya little ho-

Mo- sexual I bet you will

Be on the dick if it turns into a hit

But that type of shit is jumpin the fuck off

So I do the same, now I’m comin off

So don’t get upset if you can’t get lyrical respect

Don’t get mad, get wreck

Closing: Tim Dog

Yeahhh, this track has been dedicated, to real hip-hop

Peace to the Zulu Nation

Peace to Willie D and the Boogie Down Production posse

And peace to the South Bronx, peace! (echoes)