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Written by Brian Smith, Dan Rose, Ryan Tilly, Dave Willard
when i say hiphop you say don't stop...here we go
say...hiphop don't stop, hiphop don't stop
i'll be funkin' it up like george clinton the p-funk allstar
show me the microphone and i'll show you how far, i can take it
watch me make it so sweet, than when we break into beat you see i'm up to par
and i know what time it is because i'm rhyming this
i'm always dropping words where they belong because my timing is impeccable, respectable
everytime i get up i get down, i've been called a spectacle around town
mc fire i'm back and i'm ready to attack with the fresh-phat flow
and a wallet full of dough, been away from the game from a long long time and i still
got the rhymes that'll make you go..........
here i am lettin' loose the whiteboy with the shit and i still got the grooves
from the discowhore bit, take you back to school through a retro hit,
with the beats of the hiphop diggity-dit
now i'm gonna say hip-hop, don't stop
m-c-a-c-t-i-o-n pass me the mic and let me begin to get funky
no, i'm not a junkie, but there's a good chance i'm addicted to the skunky buds
the pub near the east-side river where i'm living, beautiful woman
always comin' up to me sayin' "aren't you that dope mc"?
and i say..."yeah...."
Anybody speak of a breakdown this shits a shakedown,
drop the fuckin’ bake down, we’ll hit ya in the mix this party never quits,
the revolution will be televised I throw back to 8-bits, now look before you leap,
cuz I’m on top of the heap they’re all sheep that all bleat to the beat that I keep,
and you better brought some loot cuz the bill is pretty steep, I never waste my time, I ain’t givin’ it cheap.
what up peeps? and all you cool kids (that's it)
i'm sellin' my service so come place your bids
we don't bump the bass, we just bump the mids,
so never poke fun about the way i live
they call me cash till, cuz i don't have any...got a collection of hits
and i never made a penny, so follow me and your ears won't decieve
as we lead hiphop into the next century
spare no expense for the perfect sound, your ready to unravel
too tightly wound, yeah, i know you wanna move when the record spins 'round
cuz you know our turntables weigh eighty-three pounds...right now?
now i'm gonna say hiphop don't stop, hiphop don't stop, hiphop don't stop
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Written by Ryan Tilly, Dan Rose, Brian Smith and David Willard
song on the radio, lost my rhythm and we can't even get a show
bank accounts droppin', the hits keep floppin',
MC Actions left town, while Cash Till stuck around
I got this really bad feeling that I just can't shake
i'm don't feel tired but i can't stay awake
tryin' to be good for goodness sakes, but I can't stop thinking that we might
get a break so I get baked.
so, I'm here by myself, remembering the days of the CPR wealth
being as bad as I want to be looking as good as I always do,
spreading all the love and the girls legs too
so stick around when the crew returns with a fresh new sound and a few
pounds too, we'll bring you back to an old school sound
makin' the show, with the rumble in the ground
The book of new school has got a new chapter, if you're looking for a beat
then we've got what you're after, We' ran out of luck
doesn't seem to matter, so walk with us Underneath Ladders
sick of being struck with the bad luck sunk in a rut just enough
to get a buck bring on the corruption it's okay cuz i'm
loving the attention, oh wait! did i forget to mention, we're still not messin'
around, with the sound to astound round for round so i'll pound
all this doubt out of your mouth, with a one-two punch in a twelve round
bout, no need to shout, we can hear ya just fine, i'm a novice I promise,
i can't keep time, I'm bringin' the rhymes like a natural disaster, so walk
with us.. underneath ladders
here we go with the rude boy beat, trying our hardest to make
you move your feet, just a bunch of hobos arrivin' at the go-go
wanna see you there but it's just another no-show
which one's smarter? the bum or the martyr? there may be no strings attached
but life is always harder when you're dealt a bad hand and your shit outta luck
no on there to lend a hand, or give a flying fuck, let's run amuck, and see
where we are going, CPR is flowing but in vain it's always showin'
the number thirteen and a broken looking glass, black cat crossed my path
so i give it back to cash.
<CHORUS>
we need to take a break so we can assess the damage, smoke a
cigarette and eat a sandwich, the plan which was put into effect is
keepin' it real like Bela Fleck, so check out timing as i rhyme to my
advantage
I teaching spanish in my sleep I'm not quite sure why, i think it's too
many BT's, with baked in a PI
and by the way, when you roll that jay to smoke, it's two hits
and then pass not toke, toke, toke,
I can't smoke the green it makes me paranoid, void of all thought
distraught and annoyed
I'm unemployed so don't give me no guff, saving up my coin
because enough is enough
we'll i'm a chain-smokin', bucketbong tokin', out-spoken M.C.
but my bank account's broken
I taked ripped jeans to new extremes, in my dreams I own pants
that aren't torn at the seams
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Written by Dan Rose and Ryan Tilly
on your mark, get set go, let me bring you to the flow
kickin' it old school cause that's the only way i know
freakin' all the honeys on the dance floor makin' moves
gettin' all their numbers 'cuz their man let 'em on the loose
this is a tale that you might have heard before
two whiteboys that were born on the dancefloor
we got the skills we ain't got the rhyme
if you can't find a beat well, just take mine
for those of you that wanna play this game
please step in line i shall explain
what i do, 'cuz it takes two
step aside take control lemme do what i do
here i am lettin' loose the whiteboy with the shit
mackin' on the girls and i just won't quit
givin' em what they want, what they want of course is me
you know that i know, that no one disagrees
this is a tale that you might have heard before
two whiteboys that were born on the dancefloor
we got the skills we ain't go the rhyme
if you can't find a beat well just take mine
for those of you that wanna play this game
please step in line i shall explain
what you do and i do, 'cuz it takes two
step aside, take control, lemme do what i do
all you want is a whiteboy (just like me)
why you wanna do that?
all you want is a whiteboy
(just like me)
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Written by Brian Smith, Dan Rose, Ryan Tilly and David Willard
what, i'm in the mood to give to ya, too much for you to handle
not much i had to give
spin around my little hottie gonna take a look again my superficial
little ways are gonna make me insane
i'm here to show you what it's like you think you had it once before
it's a pleasure to your delight, i'm here to name you discowhore
straight up, where we go back down, stop the flow
mc fire, i'm down, and it's time to go home
i don't really care what you say to me, don't dare diss creativity
it's easy to see what we're doin' wrong, but i'd like to hear you write a
hip hop song
nothin'll do but the best, so i delivery the best, no stress,
i'm writin' pages, smoking all the sess', don't press me for a photo op
i'm sick of all these solo pop divas on my radio, speakers, sellin' soda
pop and sneakers, cuz it's not hot hittin' hiphop project bitten
from mcs spittin' out the lyrics that i'm slippin to you now,
i came to get down, I came to get down,
so watch my crew tear this shit down
checkity, check, check
should I tighten up the wire
nothin'll do but the best for mc fire
i'm flippin' out the beats, cuz the beats are flippin'
i'm rockin' on guitar cuz the strings are grippin'
yo check one two so what you gonna do, CPR is on stage ready to
break through, Ooooh.
Cash till takes the mic and I'm alright
I like my b-cup supermodels tight, aiight!
<CHORUS>
strap on your air jordans and look to the sky,
here's another bomb track to make you wonder why, on earth do they rock so
damn hard, you see my picture on the CPR trading cards
i'm the part-time virtual MC of your dreams, and I rise to the
top using any means, you try to jump in my pants and
your bound to rip the seams, the hiphop don't stop
so where's the green?
Screwy Newey back again, the sneaky living lexicon
cooler than captain cooligan, the hooligan, southeast michigan, I'll
kill a man, just to watch him die, I twist the words around to get the truth out
of a lie, I'm the king misogynist, i make the ladies cry, toe to toe
eye to eye, you lose goodbye
CPR's the muse to rock the mofo, viva la revolution, so here we go
you can't tell us what to do, you can't tell us what to say,
so open your ears close your eyes and wait for the song to fade
<CHORUS>
nothin'll do but the best, cuz we're rippin' like a bullet
through your bullet-proof vest
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Written by Brian Smith, Dan Rose, and Ryan Tilly
open up your ears, let the sound of the revolution occupy your
mind, a year has passed by and we're still droppin' cuts, still throwin' butts
from my honda, smokin' marijuana. so try to keep cool without flippin' your
lid, my name is mc action and i know what you did last summer, thunder and
lightning couldn't stop me, when i'm on the mic you wanna copy my style,
stick around a while and i'll show you what i do, but now it's time to give the
microphone to....
gimme the mic and listen to my statement, we're in the business we have
forsaken, you think you have a say in the rhymes i'm makin', you must've
heard wrong, you gotta be mistaken, cuz i'm rainin' on your parade, as I
get paid to watch hiphop fade, I made more hits then a major league player,
and i ziplock my rhymes to preserve the flavor, so
come reward me for my good behavior, as i cut
this track like a remington shaver
what what what the hell is going on? i'll bet your sayin'. What kinda music
are these white boys playing? day in and day out, you know i'm all
about the revolution, i've got a contribution to make to the
rap scene, don't get caught between a brick wall and my
crew, we're gonna slice through anything in our path, i've got the wrath
of the live wire... never slow down, never get tired, never told a lie
so i'll never be a liar, and if you don't believe me
ask mc fire
shake a bake my lady gotta flow you know, gotta get a quick fix
of that thigh you show, gonna take you down, gonna judge my sound
makin' sure that what i give is gonna suit you right
but back to the issue at hand (hand), tripping on a mic
like a fireman can (can), givin' what you want taking what I need
givin' everybody the C-P-R -C, MC Fire is my call, Cash Till
and Action will slip it to you all, sit back relax and drink and think
cuz of what we're going to give, you won't be gettin' no sleep like arnold C
CPR-C, CPR-C, What's that?
CPR-C, CPR-C, Who's that?
CPR-C, CPR-C, means?
come on everybody get funky with me
what's that? looking where my girls at?
Dancing lap style, hope you stay a little while with
the flow that i'm giving.
goodbye sweetheart, well, it's time to go.
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Written by Dan Rose, Brian Smith, and Ryan Tilly
well you know it really wasn't really always this way
I can still remember those off-rhythm days
But then I heard the thunder and I felt the earth move
I dropped down and cried, "I'm a slave to the groove"
I felt I'd been given a gift from above.
Chill-out baby don't push and/or shove
I ain't got nothing that I gotta prove
I'm just a normal guy who's a slave to the groove
set it up one-two, welcome to my little zoo
back it up, three-four, dish it out a little more
step inside, take off your coat,
don't worry baby, i like to come all over the place
I'm gonna take you on a ride you won't ever want to leave
the crimestopper said, ooh it sounds sweet
take my time then speed away
make you sweat, drip, lick all day
you know the get up kids? well I'm the get down kid
I'm like zeus when i let loose i cover the grid
I'm always in demand for what i'm able to do and
for the record you can make the check payable to:
M.C.A.C.T.I.O.N. 'cause i got more rhymes then the devils got sins
and I'm never really far off track, I'm super-cool so get off my back
back, back, back it up turn the stereo up, I'm gonna marry
a model and get my hands on the B-Cup, I'm good to go when i go
low, i'm in the front row, solo, I'm walking down the street, you
know i beat the lyrical famine, who's at the other end of my cannon
who's camera is pannin' cross the stage as we're blarin' it?
who's next in the M.C. mutation experiment? We're wearin' it down
I'm tearin' it down, a new gunslinger in town, rap singer in town
tryin' to figure out how the sound can sound so sweet
when my lips start to move, slave to the groove.
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Written by Dan Rose, Ryan Tilly
grab the keys to the car and i plot my course, first gear second gear
then skip to fourth, abort the chores of my daily life,
it's time to hit the streets this thursday night
so get inside and take precaution
we goin' on a roadtrip, detroit to boston
when it comes to rockin' there ain't no stoppin' a force that of course is
known for jawdroppin'
oooohh waahh baby won't you ride with me *Amanda*
Lemme train ya in the school of logical thought
cuz this is one lesson that you must be taught
i'm the Kidd of the group that'll take on the world
If you wanna good time gotta git with me girl
super smooth skills of mister hong kong phuey
I'll get ya screamin' "oh my god, newey"
when I'm done with you, your disposition's changed
cuz you get it finished right from a man this deranged
Well I'm back with another track, superstar strikes back
cop stop system kickin', homestyle butthole lickin' booty call
keepin' up hard, girls got a need for me to fill the "o"
so i need some slack, keep 'em comin' back, keep the
record down, sendin' it down the town, til i come again
you won't disagree, dial 5-5-5 g-i-v-e-i-t-t-o-m-e-m-c
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Written by Dan Rose, Ryan Tilly, and David Willard
everytime i turn on the radio, i don't know..it might be me
but i don't believe all the wack mcs that i'm hearin'
and all the disposable scenes appearin' on MTV
and the BET, Hell...i'm embarassed to be an mc,
call me MC Boney, the super-disco treat
"what ever happened to the old school beats the new school is too cool
even for me, i want to return it but i lost my receipt"
you gotta flow, oh, don't you know, carpet ride to the show
c.p.r. the revolution, gonna change the constitution, standing here
i understand we're bringin' back an old-school brand
everybody wants a piece so go ahead and sign the lease
climbin' up so high c.p.r. won't die, we're comin' back again
please girls don't cry. Should i fail to please you which i highly doubt i will
you can write me a letter and sign it discowhore, girl.
<chorus>
we're just a three-man party brigade, kickin' it new school like dr. dre
takin' ya back to the good ol' days when the
reign of rob base would make the whole place,
move their feet to the funky ol' beat, don't take that seat
cuz that is mine, like Cher i wish i could turn back time and bring
back every mc that i find
<chorus>
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Hit the Deck
((written by Brian Neil Smith, Dave Willard and Ryan Tilly)
your rap band broke up but i wouldn't call it tragic, cuz
you say you got the mad flow, but all i hear is static, so let me on the
mike so i can work a little magic, never sweat shit cuz my rhymes are automatic
back the fuck up, and shut the fuck up, and don't say nothin' as i
fuck your shit up, you can't stop frontin' can you?
MC FIRE and there's nothing that i can't do, takin' this shit up to the next level
about to explode like a boiling tea kettle, checkin' out my flow
cuz they always want more, but they're is just no break when they're lined up at the door
so you wanna know how i got my groove back, it's corporate america
that's givin' me the greenbacks, so step right up, and dry those eyes up
and take notice how i light this mic up
always nickel and dimin' or fuckin' flossin' diamonds, the same ol'
tired lyric, of bustin' out the hymens, throwin' 'em on the mantle like a
trophy piece, the lies are livin' large, are passe', they've deceased
everybody hit the deck, when the beat is thumpin', the bass is pumpin',
the crowd is jumpin' everybody get down, let me tell ya'll something
when we're on the mic you know we don't stop for nothing
from the corner of the eye i see you sneakin' by
I holler pack it up, and let my fists fly
i feel it getting hotter in the pressure cooker cuz tillys got
more hooks than johnny lee hooker, look out.
it's only a matter of time before your singing our songs, so don't tell me how to rhyme
when we're doin' it wrong, we jumped off the charts, yo! we didn't belong
all you critics are cynics, c'mon bring it on.
the taste of couvasier it makes me nauseated,
trite mcs always sweatin' on how they're rated
so drop all the fronts, facades, and all the show,
and see if you can stand up to my pasty white flow
<chorus>Fuckin- motherfuckin' shit son-of -a bitch, gotta get a girl or two to soothe my
itch, cpr crew we're coming off without a hitch, i'm pickin' up stitches, must
be the season of the witch
it's hopeless all you think about is a dopefest, your pipe's
got wonderful grafix, won't you know that it's smokeless, get your
head out the clouds, back with me on the ground, with my tent
revival crew i'll be making my rounds
hold up crew, let us get on the same page
i don't think i can cuz i'm caught in a rage, a sage is born,
we gotta get on track, gotta prove it to the people that
CPR is back, but i'm that way, i'm
this way, musical dismay, so push play and crave the beats that
we display, through you're speakers and into your home
passin' through the airwaves and into your dome, let it sink in with the
revolution tone, if we bottled our sweat we could sell it as cologne
'cash till, you soooo bad!'
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Written by Ryan Tilly
I'm changing up the tempo before i go solo, makin' the fresh-flow like the freshmaker Mentos, unorthodox beatbox, listen to the clock tock and tick, to this final sound of this acoustic rock bliss, don't wait for the day when the fat bass hits and makes all we create, disappear, get a new career, in the age when the message is made unclear, so tell your friends and tell your peers about CPR, rock superstars, get out of my dreams, get into my car and drive, i don't care where just far
I'm set for life, stripper for a wife, silver plated tooth and a solid-gold mic, But i'd give it all back, when the time is right
As i sit right here, it becomes quite clear, the revolution came and went, subsided, confided all the money is spent, the fire is out, the action is done, The screw is down tight it's time to call it a night, one last swan song would only seem right, it's all ended no more pretending, too many fools our lyrics offended, all this flawless but unintended
I'm set for life, stripper for a wife, silver plated tooth and a solid-gold mic, But i'd give it all back, when the time is right
hate to say that this is goodbye, it's been fun but it's been a long ride, many have tried but few survive, the time it takes to make a rhyme
I'm set for life, stripper for a wife, silver plated tooth and a solid-gold mic, But i'd give it all back, when the time is right
I'm never ever ever tempted by the ills of society, i'm known for my flow of notoriety, i'm keeping in real, i'm keeping it fresh, until the rest of the world is all out of breath, i'm set for life a stripper for a wife, silver plated tooth and a solid gold mic, but i'd give it all back.... when the time is right
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The Original Funky Lo-Fi Old-School Crusty Hiphop album by Cobalt Party Revolution. Recorded, Mixed and Produced by Cash Till from 1998 - 2002. No computers were used in the recording of this album.1 room - all analog.