I almost skipped the Friday Night Raps this week, what with the big Aurilia announcement plus the two additional posts I plan to put up tonight or later this weekend. But when I thought about depriving you, my loyal reader, of '80s novelty rap, I realized I just couldn't do that to you. That being the case, yo, VIP, let's kick it.
Now that the party is jumping
With the bass kicked in and the vegas are pumpin'
Quick to the point to the point no faking
I'm cooking MC's like a pound of bacon
Burning them if you ain't quick and nimble
I go crazy when I hear a cymbal
And a hi-hat with a souped up tempo
I'm on a roll and it's time to go solo
Rollin' in my 5.0
With my rag-top down so my hair can blow
The girlies on standby waving just to say hi
Did you stop no I just drove by
Kept on pursuing to the next stop
I busted a left and I'm heading to the next block
The block was dead
Yo so I continued to A1A Beachfront Avenue
Girls were hot wearing less than bikinis
Rockman lovers driving Lamborghinis
Jealous 'cause I'm out getting mine
Shay with a guage and Vanilla with a nine
Reading for the chumps on the wall
The chumps acting ill because they're so full of eight balls
Gunshots rang out like a bell
I grabbed my nine all I heard were shells
Falling on the concrete real fast
Jumped in my car slammed on the gas
Bumper to bumper the avenue's packed
I'm trying to get away before the jackers jack
Police on the scene you know what I mean
They passed me up confronted all the dope fiends
If there was a problem yo I'll solve it
Check out the hook while my DJ revolves it
Yeah, it just wouldn't have been Friday without that.
As long as we're here, might as well mention that , so it looks like he won't be a Met next year. Hey, the Reds are looking for relievers, aren't they?
Word to your mother, y'all.