Ingredients to Time Travel Lyrics
| Song | Ingredients to Time Travel |
| Artist | Artifacts |
| Album | That's Them |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Brown | |
| (sound of Keith Murray intro from Mary J. Blige 'What's the 411' tape | |
| which I could swear has been set to B.I.G.'s "Who Shot Ya" based on | |
| the sound of the beat (Artifacts assure me that this is Mary J. Blige)) | |
| "My subliminals, mixed with criminal chemicals | |
| Got more mily syllables than alphabet cereal..." | |
| *car door slams* | |
| Tame: I gots ta get this bag of bam ba zi, f**k this! | |
| "You know who the f**k I am so get off that old bullshucks!" | |
| --> Redman (scratched sample) | |
| "He ain't shit, you ain't shit, your momma ain't shit, daddy ain't shit" | |
| --> Redman (scratched sample) | |
| (Tame One) | |
| If I had it my way, every wack MC would die Friday | |
| Makin Saturday a better day | |
| Sunday wouldn't start your week off til Monday | |
| One day tunes I wrote yesterday will be tomorrow's scriptures for today | |
| At high noon, Boom Skwad Gods with knowledge | |
| Holler at apostles, who squalor in despair, despisin those who follow | |
| Swallowin pride like St. Ide's while you stare... take a drink | |
| Don't think in a eyeblink I won't start my hijinks | |
| and hijack a flight (Yeah right, when?) | |
| Tomorrow night, cause off the record with the treble and the bass | |
| I chase my lyrics through the rap race | |
| Last place is simply not an option in my case | |
| Waste not want not because I front not | |
| The Notty keeps his lyrical shotty cocked | |
| and locked up at your temple, over instrumentals | |
| ("It's all in your mind") you No. 2 like the pencil | |
| The Boom Skwadron, Godson, who got the Bop Gun | |
| The top gun, from the jump like Datsun | |
| I got one, candy-coated rote rhymes skits I shit on when I get on | |
| Then flip the scripts like I had Zips on | |
| It's on like electrical, my symmetrical | |
| alphabetic keeps my competition ridin on my testicles | |
| ("he ain't shit, you ain't shit, ain't nobody shit") | |
| You to the rescue, let me test you | |
| Who the best crew, most definite | |
| has to be the Skwad cause I'm the President | |
| All you misrepresenters with your twelve inches need pinches | |
| Wake the f**k up and check out what this is | |
| ("he ain't shit, you ain't shit, your momma ain't shit, ain't nobody shit") | |
| I can't see nuttin but victories | |
| MC's think they can get to me, then bring it | |
| Cause once I pass the blunt to my Lieutenant then we in it | |
| For the infinite, no play play | |
| The notty headed Newark nigga from NJ and the Sensai | |
| represent fully, playin bullies out for yappin | |
| Thinkin you'll be rappin, get tapped and say you scrappin | |
| While I been waitin hatin fake MC's that make they bacon | |
| with passion, rippin up they stickers for reaction | |
| Practicin on rap has-beens, I'm down with the Biz like Backspin | |
| Dissin Mikes like the Jacksons | |
| Thick like the lips on that Fugee chick | |
| Hard like the dicks in booty flicks | |
| Dissin niggaz like a snooty bitch (trick) | |
| I only pop a coochie if it smells Gucci | |
| Get the lucci hit it for months and then smoke blunts with the hoochies | |
| ("What's the flavor Dunn" - Tame) | |
| You know the flavor like blue cheese | |
| on how I make crews bleed and school MC's who try to do me | |
| ("He ain't shit, you ain't... ahh motherf**ker") | |
| "Do me baby, do me baby" | |
| ("he ain't shit, you ain't shit...") | |
| "bom ba zi, it ain't over motherf**kers" | |
| ("He ain't shit, you ain't shit") | |
| Outro: Rhino CMZ | |
| 75% water, H2O, PE, alcohol, oil | |
| Dependin on temperature, what's the hot shit? | |
| Rhino, Tame, Boom Skwad, Hidden Descent | |
| INI, Reflections, check the Twins | |
| Aight God, recognize what's fake | |
| Time to turn platinum to purple chrome | |
| Green purple yellow red white chrome |
| zuo qu : Brown | |
| sound of Keith Murray intro from Mary J. Blige ' What' s the 411' tape | |
| which I could swear has been set to B. I. G.' s " Who Shot Ya" based on | |
| the sound of the beat Artifacts assure me that this is Mary J. Blige | |
| " My subliminals, mixed with criminal chemicals | |
| Got more mily syllables than alphabet cereal..." | |
| car door slams | |
| Tame: I gots ta get this bag of bam ba zi, f k this! | |
| " You know who the f k I am so get off that old bullshucks!" | |
| Redman scratched sample | |
| " He ain' t shit, you ain' t shit, your momma ain' t shit, daddy ain' t shit" | |
| Redman scratched sample | |
| Tame One | |
| If I had it my way, every wack MC would die Friday | |
| Makin Saturday a better day | |
| Sunday wouldn' t start your week off til Monday | |
| One day tunes I wrote yesterday will be tomorrow' s scriptures for today | |
| At high noon, Boom Skwad Gods with knowledge | |
| Holler at apostles, who squalor in despair, despisin those who follow | |
| Swallowin pride like St. Ide' s while you stare... take a drink | |
| Don' t think in a eyeblink I won' t start my hijinks | |
| and hijack a flight Yeah right, when? | |
| Tomorrow night, cause off the record with the treble and the bass | |
| I chase my lyrics through the rap race | |
| Last place is simply not an option in my case | |
| Waste not want not because I front not | |
| The Notty keeps his lyrical shotty cocked | |
| and locked up at your temple, over instrumentals | |
| " It' s all in your mind" you No. 2 like the pencil | |
| The Boom Skwadron, Godson, who got the Bop Gun | |
| The top gun, from the jump like Datsun | |
| I got one, candycoated rote rhymes skits I shit on when I get on | |
| Then flip the scripts like I had Zips on | |
| It' s on like electrical, my symmetrical | |
| alphabetic keeps my competition ridin on my testicles | |
| " he ain' t shit, you ain' t shit, ain' t nobody shit" | |
| You to the rescue, let me test you | |
| Who the best crew, most definite | |
| has to be the Skwad cause I' m the President | |
| All you misrepresenters with your twelve inches need pinches | |
| Wake the f k up and check out what this is | |
| " he ain' t shit, you ain' t shit, your momma ain' t shit, ain' t nobody shit" | |
| I can' t see nuttin but victories | |
| MC' s think they can get to me, then bring it | |
| Cause once I pass the blunt to my Lieutenant then we in it | |
| For the infinite, no play play | |
| The notty headed Newark nigga from NJ and the Sensai | |
| represent fully, playin bullies out for yappin | |
| Thinkin you' ll be rappin, get tapped and say you scrappin | |
| While I been waitin hatin fake MC' s that make they bacon | |
| with passion, rippin up they stickers for reaction | |
| Practicin on rap hasbeens, I' m down with the Biz like Backspin | |
| Dissin Mikes like the Jacksons | |
| Thick like the lips on that Fugee chick | |
| Hard like the dicks in booty flicks | |
| Dissin niggaz like a snooty bitch trick | |
| I only pop a coochie if it smells Gucci | |
| Get the lucci hit it for months and then smoke blunts with the hoochies | |
| " What' s the flavor Dunn" Tame | |
| You know the flavor like blue cheese | |
| on how I make crews bleed and school MC' s who try to do me | |
| " He ain' t shit, you ain' t... ahh motherf ker" | |
| " Do me baby, do me baby" | |
| " he ain' t shit, you ain' t shit..." | |
| " bom ba zi, it ain' t over motherf kers" | |
| " He ain' t shit, you ain' t shit" | |
| Outro: Rhino CMZ | |
| 75 water, H2O, PE, alcohol, oil | |
| Dependin on temperature, what' s the hot shit? | |
| Rhino, Tame, Boom Skwad, Hidden Descent | |
| INI, Reflections, check the Twins | |
| Aight God, recognize what' s fake | |
| Time to turn platinum to purple chrome | |
| Green purple yellow red white chrome |
| zuò qǔ : Brown | |
| sound of Keith Murray intro from Mary J. Blige ' What' s the 411' tape | |
| which I could swear has been set to B. I. G.' s " Who Shot Ya" based on | |
| the sound of the beat Artifacts assure me that this is Mary J. Blige | |
| " My subliminals, mixed with criminal chemicals | |
| Got more mily syllables than alphabet cereal..." | |
| car door slams | |
| Tame: I gots ta get this bag of bam ba zi, f k this! | |
| " You know who the f k I am so get off that old bullshucks!" | |
| Redman scratched sample | |
| " He ain' t shit, you ain' t shit, your momma ain' t shit, daddy ain' t shit" | |
| Redman scratched sample | |
| Tame One | |
| If I had it my way, every wack MC would die Friday | |
| Makin Saturday a better day | |
| Sunday wouldn' t start your week off til Monday | |
| One day tunes I wrote yesterday will be tomorrow' s scriptures for today | |
| At high noon, Boom Skwad Gods with knowledge | |
| Holler at apostles, who squalor in despair, despisin those who follow | |
| Swallowin pride like St. Ide' s while you stare... take a drink | |
| Don' t think in a eyeblink I won' t start my hijinks | |
| and hijack a flight Yeah right, when? | |
| Tomorrow night, cause off the record with the treble and the bass | |
| I chase my lyrics through the rap race | |
| Last place is simply not an option in my case | |
| Waste not want not because I front not | |
| The Notty keeps his lyrical shotty cocked | |
| and locked up at your temple, over instrumentals | |
| " It' s all in your mind" you No. 2 like the pencil | |
| The Boom Skwadron, Godson, who got the Bop Gun | |
| The top gun, from the jump like Datsun | |
| I got one, candycoated rote rhymes skits I shit on when I get on | |
| Then flip the scripts like I had Zips on | |
| It' s on like electrical, my symmetrical | |
| alphabetic keeps my competition ridin on my testicles | |
| " he ain' t shit, you ain' t shit, ain' t nobody shit" | |
| You to the rescue, let me test you | |
| Who the best crew, most definite | |
| has to be the Skwad cause I' m the President | |
| All you misrepresenters with your twelve inches need pinches | |
| Wake the f k up and check out what this is | |
| " he ain' t shit, you ain' t shit, your momma ain' t shit, ain' t nobody shit" | |
| I can' t see nuttin but victories | |
| MC' s think they can get to me, then bring it | |
| Cause once I pass the blunt to my Lieutenant then we in it | |
| For the infinite, no play play | |
| The notty headed Newark nigga from NJ and the Sensai | |
| represent fully, playin bullies out for yappin | |
| Thinkin you' ll be rappin, get tapped and say you scrappin | |
| While I been waitin hatin fake MC' s that make they bacon | |
| with passion, rippin up they stickers for reaction | |
| Practicin on rap hasbeens, I' m down with the Biz like Backspin | |
| Dissin Mikes like the Jacksons | |
| Thick like the lips on that Fugee chick | |
| Hard like the dicks in booty flicks | |
| Dissin niggaz like a snooty bitch trick | |
| I only pop a coochie if it smells Gucci | |
| Get the lucci hit it for months and then smoke blunts with the hoochies | |
| " What' s the flavor Dunn" Tame | |
| You know the flavor like blue cheese | |
| on how I make crews bleed and school MC' s who try to do me | |
| " He ain' t shit, you ain' t... ahh motherf ker" | |
| " Do me baby, do me baby" | |
| " he ain' t shit, you ain' t shit..." | |
| " bom ba zi, it ain' t over motherf kers" | |
| " He ain' t shit, you ain' t shit" | |
| Outro: Rhino CMZ | |
| 75 water, H2O, PE, alcohol, oil | |
| Dependin on temperature, what' s the hot shit? | |
| Rhino, Tame, Boom Skwad, Hidden Descent | |
| INI, Reflections, check the Twins | |
| Aight God, recognize what' s fake | |
| Time to turn platinum to purple chrome | |
| Green purple yellow red white chrome |
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