This is one of my favorite songs. https://fnfgo.io
Lone Catalysts
Yo
I grab these microphones to live, son
Pay the rent, put food on the table
Got a roof over my head
But I take it serious
No joke
Comin straight out the box, first edition, nutrition
From musicians, food for thought when you listen
I been around the atlas, countries and states
Everybody knows the Catalysts bumps, beats and breaks
The most true to life rap tactics for practise
The fact is, I tilt a nigga off his axis
The way that Sands taxes, doin his mic matches
Somethin massive, let me explain what the wrath is
Four hundred years of oppression, anger, aggression
And the anxiety of a blackman stressin
The devil keep on testin, always gotta offer his suggestions
Make it seem greater when it's less than
That's just tricknowledge
They teach you it from high school through college
So you can go out and get them dollars
It's just a game they play to see who has the fattest wallet
That's why most blacks smoke crack and most white alcoholics
I grab these microphones to live, son, rest in peace Big Pun
Because you know another day you're not promised to live one
Yo, the streets are hot, most blocks are like a prison
So if you're lookin' for love, kid, you gots to give some
Man, these days are cold-blooded, everyone's butted
Rock jewels that stay flooded, the weak, they never cut it
Sometime I be like 'what if' but ain't a damn thing gonna change
Cause it's just part of the game
Aiyo, I slap-box lyrics through mics, the smooth type
That move right into a state of mind to fight
'Cause it's all ground zero, my street level bureau
We'll play this game until we master it like Ken Duro
So what's your role? My part is the aural
Sub-moral, Lone Catalysts remain plural
I'm like (?) Headin' out to (?)
Maryland, in a caravan to a rural
Spot to make a drop-off, that's how I hustle my raps to prosper
'Cause MC's disappear like Jimmy Hoffa
The hungriest cats are at the crib writin this very minute
They see the pennant and wanna win it
That's how styles get invented
Y'all new jack timid frontin-ass niggas rhymes be rented
I got no respect for y'all, y'all probably be the next to fall
You wanna bang, kid, should be waitin for the ref to call
A time-out, so you can find out
Any possible way to exit this rhyme bout
Okay now let me get back to the session at hand
My DJ's name is Jason Rawls, I don't need no band
Yo, I travel across the land, microphone in hand
Do some dates out west so I can work on my tan
I guess it's just the rap life
Y'all know who y'all niggas act like?
Quick to blaze the bag pipe and talk about the last night
Some are real grimey muthafuckas up in the fast life
Don't give a damn about rap cause they're stresin the crack price
(And grip the Mack tight) Some niggas frail like a glass pipe
With more bodyguards than Bill Clinton around they ass, type
To walk the streets at night carrying a flashlight
Some are players grabbin all the mamis on they ass tight
Bust it, some smoke weed, get skeed, hashis
Dust and ecstasy, shrooms and drink (?) Booze (?)
For all my rappin' niggas, I hope we link soon
Get yours, I'm gettin' mine, cause it's about time
I grab these microphones to live, son, rest in peace Big Pun
Because you know another day you're not promised to live one
Yo, the streets are hot, most blocks are like a prison
So if you're lookin' for love, kid, you gots to give some
Man, these days are cold-blooded, everyone's butted
Rock jewels that stay flooded, the weak, they never cut it
Sometime I be like 'what if' but ain't a damn thing gonna change
Cause it's just part of the game
A life
Yo, I wanna give a shout out to everybody in hip-hop who couldn't be here
Yo, Big Pun
Freaky Tah
Big L
Scott La Rock
Trouble T Roy
Mc Trouble
Keith Cowboy
Peace
We miss you
Yo
I grab these microphones to live, son
Pay the rent, put food on the table
Got a roof over my head
But I take it serious
No joke
Comin straight out the box, first edition, nutrition
From musicians, food for thought when you listen
I been around the atlas, countries and states
Everybody knows the Catalysts bumps, beats and breaks
The most true to life rap tactics for practise
The fact is, I tilt a nigga off his axis
The way that Sands taxes, doin his mic matches
Somethin massive, let me explain what the wrath is
Four hundred years of oppression, anger, aggression
And the anxiety of a blackman stressin
The devil keep on testin, always gotta offer his suggestions
Make it seem greater when it's less than
That's just tricknowledge
They teach you it from high school through college
So you can go out and get them dollars
It's just a game they play to see who has the fattest wallet
That's why most blacks smoke crack and most white alcoholics
I grab these microphones to live, son, rest in peace Big Pun
Because you know another day you're not promised to live one
Yo, the streets are hot, most blocks are like a prison
So if you're lookin' for love, kid, you gots to give some
Man, these days are cold-blooded, everyone's butted
Rock jewels that stay flooded, the weak, they never cut it
Sometime I be like 'what if' but ain't a damn thing gonna change
Cause it's just part of the game
Aiyo, I slap-box lyrics through mics, the smooth type
That move right into a state of mind to fight
'Cause it's all ground zero, my street level bureau
We'll play this game until we master it like Ken Duro
So what's your role? My part is the aural
Sub-moral, Lone Catalysts remain plural
I'm like (?) Headin' out to (?)
Maryland, in a caravan to a rural
Spot to make a drop-off, that's how I hustle my raps to prosper
'Cause MC's disappear like Jimmy Hoffa
The hungriest cats are at the crib writin this very minute
They see the pennant and wanna win it
That's how styles get invented
Y'all new jack timid frontin-ass niggas rhymes be rented
I got no respect for y'all, y'all probably be the next to fall
You wanna bang, kid, should be waitin for the ref to call
A time-out, so you can find out
Any possible way to exit this rhyme bout
Okay now let me get back to the session at hand
My DJ's name is Jason Rawls, I don't need no band
Yo, I travel across the land, microphone in hand
Do some dates out west so I can work on my tan
I guess it's just the rap life
Y'all know who y'all niggas act like?
Quick to blaze the bag pipe and talk about the last night
Some are real grimey muthafuckas up in the fast life
Don't give a damn about rap cause they're stresin the crack price
(And grip the Mack tight) Some niggas frail like a glass pipe
With more bodyguards than Bill Clinton around they ass, type
To walk the streets at night carrying a flashlight
Some are players grabbin all the mamis on they ass tight
Bust it, some smoke weed, get skeed, hashis
Dust and ecstasy, shrooms and drink (?) Booze (?)
For all my rappin' niggas, I hope we link soon
Get yours, I'm gettin' mine, cause it's about time
I grab these microphones to live, son, rest in peace Big Pun
Because you know another day you're not promised to live one
Yo, the streets are hot, most blocks are like a prison
So if you're lookin' for love, kid, you gots to give some
Man, these days are cold-blooded, everyone's butted
Rock jewels that stay flooded, the weak, they never cut it
Sometime I be like 'what if' but ain't a damn thing gonna change
Cause it's just part of the game
A life
Yo, I wanna give a shout out to everybody in hip-hop who couldn't be here
Yo, Big Pun
Freaky Tah
Big L
Scott La Rock
Trouble T Roy
Mc Trouble
Keith Cowboy
Peace
We miss you
Lyrics submitted by SongMeanings
Part of the Game Lyrics as written by Jermaine Sanders Jason Rawls
Lyrics © Royalty Network
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
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This song was originally written by a guy called Peter Gutteridge. He was one of the founders of the "Dunedin Sound" a musical scene in the south of New Zealand in the early 80s. From there it was covered by "The Clean" one of the early bands of that scene (he had originally been a member of in it's early days, writing a couple of their best early songs). The Dunedin sound, and the Clean became popular on american college radio in the mid to late 80s. I guess Yo La Tengo heard that version.
Great version of a great song,
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