45 Kickin It Live - Intellectual

Mr. Voodoo ft. K.A. - “45 Kickin It Live”

[Emcee(s): Mr. Voodoo]

[Producer(s): Charlemagne]

[Hook/Additional Vocals: K.A.]

[Intro: Mr. Voodoo]

Yeah, Mr. Voodoo with my man K.A., about to load this gun. So check it out. Check it out. Check it out. Check it out

[Verse 1: Mr. Voodoo]

Kapow! Another emcee bust like he was pimple pus

I burn down your backyard like I was Uncle Gus

Black, I don’t know how to act

I’ll murder you with the yakety yak, I attack

Coming out the crevices and cracks. If it

Wasn’t for their tracks, a lot of emcees would be wack. I got this

Sewn up. Those that roll up get rolled up like a blunt, then I

Huff and I puff and blow the house up

My Englishness got Teflon tips, but I hate the waist

Clips, so I’ma smack the taste out your lips

The skins be screaming, “Yumping yiminy,” win me

When high, exalted, mystical, it slides down your chimney

The cool jerk originates like Kool Herc and The Herculoids

Heavens to Murgatroyd, I’m slaying wack humanoids

Da! Da! Da! Da! I kick

The vaudeville and bet you that the crowd will applaud still

I’m Angkor Wat. Like Muslims make Salat, the nasty master slot

Quick to pop a shot, wack emcees get herbed a lot

The Eighth Wonder cooler than the tundra, I make bodies

Jolt ‘cause I throw a flow like a lightning bolt, but not

Like Zeus. I’m more like, “Jesús, listen to the

Drums puh-puh!” then I arumpapum-

-pum. I cause more grief for fams than the Son of Sam

And I don’t give a black goddamn!

[Hook: K.A. and Mr. Voodoo] (x2)

My 45’s kicking it live, and that’s no jive!

Puh-puh! Take a dive if you wanna stay alive!

[Verse 2: Mr. Voodoo]

I make niggas jump

Around with my toolie. I’m well-armed and crazy like

Sam, my firearms do bodily harm, pedestrians

Ride mine like an equestrian, I get biz on any

Topic. Your skills are microscopic. The hyperbolic

Syllabic sess with Dalai mystic, artistic, hard like granite

Like Bam, I make the “Planet Rock,” I slam, dammit

The slightly muscular hustler, rupturer, restructurer

Always blessing you with rhymes that’s combustible

I kick the door right on a titan, dog, so if you’re wack

My diction folds your vision ‘til all you see is black. All

Natural, no additives or preservatives. If

Your rhymes ain’t superlative, then you don’t deserve to live

The dastardly, bastardly. Girls lose their chastity ‘cause

Quick-fast, they be giving up that ass to me

The fly talker makes you feel The Force like Skywalker

Ancient African secret how I freak it

This style is definitive while your style is primitive

I smoke you like mints and end hedges. I’m rough around

The edges, the don with the wand that freaks the leprechaun

I r-r-r-r-r-r-r-eeh-ah like a Decepticon

To reshape your frame like it was clay ‘cause I don’t play. Do fifty

Bullets up your ass make your day? ‘Cause, by the way…

[Hook: K.A. and Mr. Voodoo] (x2)

My 45’s kicking it live, and that’s no jive!

Puh-puh! Take a dive if you wanna stay alive!

[Verse 3: Mr. Voodoo]

Run, run, run. Here I come, diddy dum. I keep my

Gat concealed ‘cause I don’t have a permit for the gun

I’m looking for the punk that think that he can fuck around

So I can empty rounds in your batty boy sound

Niggas pack the gat and then scram, can’t

Do me a damn ‘cause I know who I am

Fantastic, gigantic, dogmatic. Things get drastic

When I let off the boombastic at the static

A tisket, a tasket. When the gat clicks, rats get

Put in their casket with their brains all splattered

‘Cause I plug slugs in thugs and unclogs the Glock

And what I rock got you locked to my jock

Yo (What?!?), if only you knew what I

Know. When Mr. Voodoo come to release, I

Flow, it go puh-puh-puh all over the track, I got

Cuckoo caps for that poopoo crack

When I pack steel, caps peel. I got 1-8-7

Skills, so, ‘til a beat killed for real

The Brooklyn gunner. When I bust shots, watch

Your bumboclaat crew decrease in number. Whoever

Meddles, I got the mettle to settle the score, and I’ma

Give your stupid ass, I’ma give your stupid ass, I’ma

Give your stupid ass what you’re asking for, what

You’re asking for, what you’re asking for

Two to the temple quite simple. I’m quite

Nimble, I’m gonna give your forehead a dimple ‘cause…

[Hook: K.A. and Mr. Voodoo] (x2)

My 45’s kicking it live, and that’s no jive!

Puh-puh! Take a dive if you wanna stay alive!

[Outro: Mr. Voodoo]

Yeah!