"Do you fools listen to music, or do you just skim through it?" Jay-Z

Wednesday, December 31, 2008

Busta Rhymes Scenario

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I think this is the joint that really put Bus on. Personally, I knew something ridiculous was about to transpire from the tone of his voice when he first started to rhyme "I heard you rushed and rushed, AND ATTACKED." Not to mention the fact that he dropped rambunction in the flow. How many cat's really drop words like rambunction in flows, especially back then. What's real, whether it is thin, dreaded up Bus, swole, kickng cats in the head Bus, or pudgy, big belly Bus, long live Busta Rhymes.

Hear It!

Watch, as I combine all the juice from the mind

Heel up, reel up, bring it back, come rewind

Powerful impact BOOM! from the cannon

Not braggin, try to read my mind just imagine

Vo-cab-u-lary's necessary

When diggin into my library

Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh!

Eating ayea toadstool like the one Peter Tosh-a

Uh, uh uhh, alone with the track man

Uh, pardon me, uhh, as I come back

As I did it yo I heard you beg your pardon

When I travel to the Sun I roll with the squadron

RRRRRROAW RRRRRRROAW like a dungeon dragon

Change your little drawers cause your pants are saggin

Try to step to this, I will, fits you in a turban

And had you smellin right, like some old stale urine

Checkady-choco, the chocolate chicken

The rear cock diesel, for chicks they were kickin

Yo, bustin out before the Busta bust a nut the rhyme

The rhythm is in sync (UHH!) the rhymes are on time (TIME!)

Rippin up this dance just like a radio

Observe the vibe and check out the scenario!!!!

Yeah, my man motherfucker!

Check The Vid!

Find more videos like this on SteelBarz.Blogspot.com

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Tuesday, December 30, 2008

GhostFace Killah Run 4 Cover

Yo, this MadHater, and I'm pissed off Sun, word up. This being my first post on this SteelBarz sh*t, i'm gonna start off with Ghostface Killah. Don't nobody spit like Ghost spit. I still don't know what the f*ck he's talking about, but don't nobody spit like Ghost, kid!!!! Yo, his flow, delivery, energy all that- these cats can't F*ck with Ghost Sun, real talk.

Hear That Sh*t B!!!!

Straight out the gate, meet Tony

Don of all dons, behind New York King Tut wit one arm

Banana Nut Crunch last cinnamon toast with power rose

Whips dirty, dustin my bitch, FUCK PAROLE!

Peace out his Wallee Timb's, wild out (wild out)

We in the spot, guns go off though

Came out his mask it was Ollie North

Oh shit, what up what up Ghost

Congratulations on your new flick

Burn it dead who max the most

Word up you got the most Clarks

Bravehearts spin this

For under come down in the pale he need minutes

Told y'all before I kick doors off the hinges

Ain't no cooler and there ain't no Guiness

Money like Barry Blue, Keanu Reeves wit bench slippers

Play the PGA Tour wit Jack Nicklaus

Statues of Mary, gats that bust mercury

Sit through the biggest storm and hand out turkey!

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Saturday, December 27, 2008

Rock-Ness Operation Lockdown


Hear It!

Who wan test y'all?

Mr. Mall-Doo, a.k.a. Rock-Ness y'all

Guard your chest y'all

Nothing can protect y'all

(From who?) From Buckshot on down to the Reps y'all

We runnin through your set y'all

Fuck the rest y'all, we be the best y'all

Yesh yesh y'all

I crack backs North South East and West y'all

With no stress y'all

I deep do I guess y'all

Got ancestors in deep sets I never met ya'll

Ready to wet y'all

Place your bottom dollar bets y'all

Chest boards become messed boards if you flex y'all

Nevertheless y'all

We out to save the shit before it's dead y'all

Lock it down with the full court pressure!!!!

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Saturday, December 20, 2008

Bizzy Bone Thug Luv

If you are unlike myself and can actually keep it with Bizzy Bone, and are able to decipher just exactly what the fuck it is that he is saying half of the time, then you are already aware that he is one of the sickest MOFO's to ever rhyme. That's it!!!!!!

Hear It!

Well I must be close to the Armageddon lord you know

That I won't fly that lesson you taught me to pull out my wesson you brought

And am I stressing it softly get 'em up off me cause all

We wanted was harmony been bombing 'em yell up outta my ghetto

I want settle get on my level they can't

Stop me or drop me nigga they got me fuck naw

Little Pac get schizophrenic and manage to damage all y'all

I'll talk about 'em and you don't really want it

Cause they're cornered and I want 'em to jump up

I'd rather say that we came to shut 'em all down

So quick to test bullet yes declare war

Roll and I'll blow when I get the gun for the murder mo' horror

For what the did it all pause for the cause and I

Fin to pull a nine or pistol little nigga wit mine fuck dem niggas it's on

All y'all fall Bizzy gettin bitches test me bless the floor

In any attempt to arrest me stress me lord

Looking at death with the last of my breath

Follow follow my kids but don't sin in my steps

Yet the weapon is kept with the best of my secrets

Deep in the leaves I'm alone nigga believe

That I can see it if needed an if you really want me in

Well let it be and get the greens and be runnnin up over Cleveland


Saturday, December 13, 2008

Eve EVE Double R What

As Ruff Ryders 1st and only lady, Eve has proven to be one of the most fierce female MC's ever. Her soft voice mixed with her ferocious street attack secured her title as the pitbull in a skirt. But in my opinion, cats need to start sticking to the original script. Ever since her somewhat successful run on her own short lived UPN sitcom, it seems she that she hasn't been rapping the same. Or it that we just hear her differently now? Whatever it is, she is not the same Eve that ripped cats a new asshole on several tracks. She used to be that ghetto ryde or die chick, now she's a pretty girl, is that a good thing? From "What Y'all Want" to "Tamborine," lyrically she is still that business, but will the real Eve please stand up?

Hear It!

I'm a savage bitch

Ain't nobody gettin' close to this

And ain't nobody flipped and wrote the shit

And can't nobody sit and coach this shit

You feelin' lucky? then aproach me, shit

I'm like the glass, you just the coaster bitch; Under me!

You wanna make it ugly, can't do nothin' 'bout it

Angry at the public, buggin' me

Rat bitch, pot bitch, hungover hot bitch

Wantin' all that money, fuckin' gettin' all that rock, shiiit

Scared of who? huh, we goin' get rid of you

Climbin' the walls wit' gimmicks, that shit is pitiful

Dawgs close by me, so why try me

They wan' cop me but they too sloppy

Damn, I gotchu stuck in a box

You feelin' trapped, got your stomach in knots

'Cause I ain't lettin' goI keepin' it locked

I know you gettin' mad 'cause your luck's up

Plus I'm a purebread, baby, I don't fuck with mutts

Come on!



Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Ludacris The Potion

I got mad love for many southern MC's, but what moves most just doesn't do it for me. I'm trying to figure out exactly when a cats swagger became more important than what he has to say. Speaking the realest of that real street shit means nothing as far as MCing is concerned if an artist is not good at it. That's where Ludacris comes in. Cris does not claim to be something is not on any track, and lyrically, will give it to any MC from any coast, set, hood, project, crew, camp, team, unit, squad, or any other slick ass term we can fabricate to represent our groups. What's real, stop swinging from the balls of these cats with these lazy, drunk flows and calling them the coldest in the game because they can pull a few punch lines out of their ass. That's only a fraction of what we call this Hip-Hop shit. Give credit to the real mouths of the South.

Hear It!

Only stand 5 '8, but still a big shot

Plus i got a big {cock}

Clean every day, stay fresher then whats in a zip-lock

Tell your man to kick rocks,

when i make my pit stops

Im in, then its hard to get me out like im a slipnot

Born to be a leader and not, no not a follower

Only hang with chicks that got more twist then Oliver

Not much of a hollerer

but i like to borrow her

Lips bringin out the best in me, specially if shes a swollower

Freaky deaky yellow man,

and im sayin hello man

To all the lovely ladies that like to jiggle like jello man

Bigger booty, small waist, put em' in a small place

And if aint no ass where I'm at then im in the wrong place

Bail like a bondsman, but keep em dancin

Got pop potential stay black like Bob Johnson

Who the hell is that in that fancy car

Tell your momma im a Ghetto Superstar


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Friday, November 7, 2008

Heavy D You Aint Heard Nuttin Yet

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Why is it that noone EVER brings up Heavy D in a conversation about old schoool rap? Heavy, in my opinion, was one of the greats when it came to vocabulary, word play, delivery and swag. Who didn't like to see his chubby ass dancing while he spit "We Got Our Own Thang"? Plus nobody could say that Diddley D shit right but him. Let's rewind to that old shit for a minute.

Hear It!

How could I explain to ya -

the Heavmania

Tryna figure eight or make it simple and plain to ya

Hmm, I'm the Heavster, a rap register

That flows with cash so fast you can't measure the

Intent of content that I rep-re-sent

The format of my rap from past to present tense

Girls they adore me, they scream for me

Fellas get jealous cause the ladies won't ignore me

Ov-er-weight Lo-ver MCH-E-A-V-Y-D, rap champion

Ask Nick and Damian

Joe Black, Pete Rock, Billy Bob and they'll explain to ya

Who is the greatest, the biggest, the baddest! (baddest!)

They won't front, they know the Heavy D. status

My favorite, old time group came Gladys

Knight & The Pips and, love "Flip" Wilson

The Great Houdini was my, favorite magician

Sit back relax, cause Heav is on a mission

I'm a inject, de-tect, dialect, disect, direct

Heav is in effect - but you ain't heard nuttin yet!

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

Cappadonna Winter Warz


Hear It!

You heard of the rasp before but kept waitin for the sun of song,

I keep dancehalls strong

Beats never worthy of my cause, I prolong

Extravangza, time sits still

No propoganda, be wary of the skill

As I bring forth the music, make love to your eardrum

Dedicated to rap nigga beware of the fearsome

Lebanon Don, Malcolm X beat threat

CD massacre, murder to cassette

I blow the shop up, you ain't seen nuttin yet

One man ran, tryin to get away from it

Put your bifocal on, watch me a-cometh

into your chamber like Freddy enter dream

Discombumberate your technique and your scheme

Four course applause, like a black dat to dat

You're stuck on stupid like I'm stuck on the map

Nowhere to go except next show bro

Entertainin motherfuckers can't stop O in battlin,

you don't want me to start tattlin

All upon the stage cause y'all snakes keep rattlin

Bitch, you ain't got nothin on the rich

Every other day my whole dress code switch

So just in case you want to clock me like Sherry

All y'all crab bitches ain't got to worry

Can't get a nigga like Don dime a dozen

Even if I'm smoked out I can't be scoped out

I'm too ill, I represent Park Hill

See my face on the twenty dollar bill

Cash it in, and get ten dollars back

The fat LP with Cappachino on the wax

Pass it in your think, put valve up to twelve

Put all the other LP's back on the shelf

And smoke a blunt, and dial 9-1-7-1-6-0-4-9-3-11

And you could get long dick hip-hop affection

I damage any MC who step in my direction

I'm Staten Island's best son fuck what you heard

Niggaz still talkin that shit is absurd

My repotoire, is U.S.S.R.

P.L.O. style got thrown out the car

and ran over, by the Method Man jeep

Divine can't define my style is so deep

like pussy, my low cut fade stay bushy

like a porcupine, I part backs like a spine

Gut you like a blunt and reconstruct your design

I know you want to diss me, but I can read your mind

Cuz you weak in the knees, like SWV

Tryin to get a title like Wu Killa Bee

Kid change your habit, you know I'm friends with the Abbott

Me and RZA Rob name printed in the tablet

under vets, we paid our debts for mad years

Hibernate the sound, and now we out like bears

and blunt power, born physically power speakin

The truth in the song be the pro-black teachin

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

John Forte Family Business


I think cats slept on John Forte, but he rarely left you disappointed when he blessed you with a flow. This is the joint that put me on. It is well worth the a listen, because everyone featured had an ill flow.

Hear It!

We used to jump rope,

But now we gun hope

Bustin shots off of project roof tops

Sending signals with the blunt smoke.

Ock, dont talk a lot if you cant hold it in lock

If you think lips sink ships,

Imagine full glock clips.

I hold a glass of remy martin

Gettin milks by the carton

Extortin the light weights for thinkin they important

The night pays and heavenly waysAint nothin free ah

Knowledge of your family and steppin to your b.i.

You see i, stay on top of shit like a fly

My niggas reach when they got beef

Then jet down to south beach

Yo mouthpiece is yappin

I hear it in your rap and

My family is thick so that bullshit could never happen.

Refugee Allstars We Tryin To Stay Alive

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Monday, October 20, 2008

Common Get Em High

What can I say about Com Sense, other than that is one of the most gifted, uplifting and inspiring artists ever. Common has continued represent what can only be desribed as true Hip-Hop even before the days of Resurrection when he explained to us why he used to love her. Also showing his more grittier side with his brief beef with Ice Cube in The Bitch In You. These days it is obvious that he loves her once again, and is dedicated to her resurrection. With his calm mellow tone, witty punchlines and smooth delivery, Com has definately forced his way into Hip-Hop greatness, and proven to be deserving of his staus as one of the elite.

Hear It!

Get em high like noon, or the moon or room filled with smoke

A hype filled with dope

Y'all assumed I was doomed, out of tune, but I still feel the notes

The real nigga quotes

Real rappers is hard to find, like a remote, control rap is out of

Used too but still got love, that's why I abuse you who are not thugs

Rock clubs, it's like Tiger, Woods in the hood, to have my own reality show

Called Soul Survivor, I stole all liver, niggaz than you

You'se a bitch I got ones that are thicker than you

How could I ever let your words affect me, they say Hip-Hop is dead

I'm here to resurrect me, marcs is to sexy to even make songs like these

That's why the raw don't know your name, like Alicia Keys

To many featured emcees, and pro-ducers is popular

Twelve thousand spins, nobody got there cop in the

Album, how come, you the hot garbage of

The years clear your image and snooped up

Label got you souped up, tellin you you sick

Man you a dick with a loose nut

Video hard to watch like Medusa

Even your club record need a booster

Chimped up, with a pimp cup, illiterate nigga

Read the infa- red across your head I'm bread king like Simba

Bolder then Denver, I ain't a Madd Rapper just a MC with a temper

You dancin for money like Honey, I did this my way

So when the industry crash, I survive like Kanye

Spittin through wires and fires, MC retirin

Got yo hands up, get them motherfuckers higher then


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