Rakim - Guess Who's Back

Rakim - Guess Who's Back - The 18th Letter - 1997 Universal Records

Yeah yeah It's the return of the Wild Style fashionist Smashin hits make it hard to adapt to this Put pizazz and jazz in this and cash in this Mastered this flash this and make em clap to this DJ's throw on cuts and obey the crowd Just pump the volume up and play it loud Hip Hop's embedded before I said I wouldn't let it But me and the microphone is still magnetic Straight off the top, I knew I'd be forced to rock Dancefloors just stop, the spot's scorchin hot Hoping I open Rakim Allah seminars Massage at the bar smokin ten dollar cigars while I admire midas, with more vision than TV's I find it easy catchin diabetes from fly sweeties
Sit back and wait to hear a slammin track Rockin jams by popular demand, I'm back
I control the crowd, you know I hold it down When it drop you know it's jiggy when you hear the sound
From town to town, until it's world reknowned And I rock New York City all year around

Check it out It's on so you can swerve when it's heard in clubs Thought patterns displayed on Persian rugs
Equations are drawn up in paisley form
Mic it stay warm, my flow is Evian
Deep as a Nautilus, you stay dipped in Ra style from the shores of Long Island to Panama Canal Intellect pitches new trends like a clothes designer I'm in effect, quicker than medicines in China Split the mic open fill it with somethin potent to go in
and take a toke then, mental planes start floatin Hot science is smokin altitudes cause chokin Product is hypnotic you're soakin and still smokin
Showin better scenes than grams of amphetamines Plans to scheme, means I'll forever fiend Long as the mic is loud and the volume is pumpin I'ma move crowds to 2000


Yo, my rhymes and lyrics, find spirits like a seance Since fat Cray-ons, I write and display chaos My plan is damage, the diagram to where the jam
I take advantage, until the crowd go bananas What a rush I hear cuts then I lust to touch Microphones get clutched by the illustrious Word spread I inherited, many ways to say the unsaid
Born with three 7's in my head
In time no one can seem to blow your mind as far as this To find you'll need philosophers and anthropologists
Astrologists, professors from your smartest colleges with knowledge of scholarships, when Ra be droppin this
Some of the things I know, will be in your next Bible When I die go bury me and my notebook in Cairo with the great God from Egypt manifest was write rhymes align with the stars, I come back to bless the mic
There are no comments to display.

Media information

Added by
Date added
View count
Comment count
0.00 star(s) 0 ratings

Share this media