Raise It Up Lyrics
| Song | Raise It Up |
| Artist | Ultramagnetic MC's |
| Album | The Four Horsemen |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| Intro：kool keith | |
| Yeah... yo don, gimme a little bit of that chicken | |
| That smooth chicken, a little bit of that gravy | |
| And i want some... old hot jazz biscuits | |
| With a little bit of that blues butter | |
| Bring in the snare | |
| Verse one: kool keith | |
| They never understood, many people were so slow | |
| My funky type of rhyme, and my style is pyscho | |
| Complex wrecks wrecks, my style go x x | |
| I move around off beat, creatin more styles | |
| Showin white boys, other kids my black styles | |
| I kick lyrics like shoes right in your face | |
| Walk up on a carjack of spades, pluck the ace | |
| I get slow-er, down in, on in | |
| Flowin like i used to be on critical beatdown | |
| I drop styles on ears the public bite em | |
| Not many went to school, so the dummies wouldn't write em | |
| They say yo keith, yo kool, you usin big words | |
| I went to college, i'm even more stupid herb | |
| Back on the scene to put a lesson out | |
| Even if i have to pull a black smith and wesson out | |
| I grab a hammer stick a nail in that little crack | |
| Tame the monkey show the hummingbird how to act | |
| I get atomic, hypo-galactical | |
| Word to mom i'm in my own world | |
| Galaxy raised! powerful | |
| Chorus: | |
| Raise it up (8x) | |
| Verse two: ced g | |
| Yo, yo money grip money grip, now this ain't no ego trip | |
| Yo money grip money grip, now this ain't no ego trip | |
| Now back in the days and we used to use elevation | |
| And then the people said "what's up, with ultramagnetic? | |
| Yo they sound kind of crazy, kool keith is a psycho | |
| Ced g is a scientist, the lyrics are hyper" | |
| Creating a fusion, of sampling hits | |
| We all came down just to be distinctive | |
| Some rappers complex, but they can't see the music | |
| We show orchestration, and with funky prevention | |
| It was different and black, and it caused devestation | |
| Gotta new bag, signed a deal with wild pitch | |
| Now we're back on the street, with the flavor you missed | |
| So get with the program, ultra hot off your real high | |
| I know i'm a real pro, like michigan fab 5 | |
| Runnin and shootin, for me alley-oopin | |
| Is makin an album, with big distribution | |
| Promote it and hype it, make up posters then snipe it | |
| Raise it up! | |
| Chorus | |
| Interlude: announcer | |
| Ladies and gentlemen, live from flatbush brooklyn | |
| I bring to you tonight, the godfather don | |
| From the orphans... | |
| ("hit it!") | |
| Verse three: godfather don | |
| Lookin down the barrel of a gun is no fun | |
| So for some, i rum-pum-pum and flip, like a tongue | |
| Of young dragon, with the force and ten sacks of buddah | |
| To wax a crew of jacks and looters, even your hoe i shoot her | |
| In the face, with the mother-uffin bass | |
| Now taste the venom of the ish that i sent em | |
| And foes, that doze, i chew em like gristle | |
| Wipe my mouth with tissue, there's no issue | |
| I'm first print, mint, check the wizard | |
| The force of my blast, blow em like a tec in a blizzard | |
| Now what is it? exquisite physics to stain your brain | |
| When they visit cardiovascular masterer, words are massacred damn | |
| I got beats rhymes tanks gats includin ultra | |
| Check the loop, snoop low we do ya like a vulture | |
| Back in the days, there was just beef and knuckles | |
| Nowadays, a beatdown consists of some clips | |
| My oowop, rips with abandon at random | |
| Whiff, you be ghost, like michael landon | |
| When i bust amazing nuts you play the cut | |
| The father's ultra paid, i raise it... up | |
| Chorus: repeat 2x |
| Intro: kool keith | |
| Yeah... yo don, gimme a little bit of that chicken | |
| That smooth chicken, a little bit of that gravy | |
| And i want some... old hot jazz biscuits | |
| With a little bit of that blues butter | |
| Bring in the snare | |
| Verse one: kool keith | |
| They never understood, many people were so slow | |
| My funky type of rhyme, and my style is pyscho | |
| Complex wrecks wrecks, my style go x x | |
| I move around off beat, creatin more styles | |
| Showin white boys, other kids my black styles | |
| I kick lyrics like shoes right in your face | |
| Walk up on a carjack of spades, pluck the ace | |
| I get slower, down in, on in | |
| Flowin like i used to be on critical beatdown | |
| I drop styles on ears the public bite em | |
| Not many went to school, so the dummies wouldn' t write em | |
| They say yo keith, yo kool, you usin big words | |
| I went to college, i' m even more stupid herb | |
| Back on the scene to put a lesson out | |
| Even if i have to pull a black smith and wesson out | |
| I grab a hammer stick a nail in that little crack | |
| Tame the monkey show the hummingbird how to act | |
| I get atomic, hypogalactical | |
| Word to mom i' m in my own world | |
| Galaxy raised! powerful | |
| Chorus: | |
| Raise it up 8x | |
| Verse two: ced g | |
| Yo, yo money grip money grip, now this ain' t no ego trip | |
| Yo money grip money grip, now this ain' t no ego trip | |
| Now back in the days and we used to use elevation | |
| And then the people said " what' s up, with ultramagnetic? | |
| Yo they sound kind of crazy, kool keith is a psycho | |
| Ced g is a scientist, the lyrics are hyper" | |
| Creating a fusion, of sampling hits | |
| We all came down just to be distinctive | |
| Some rappers complex, but they can' t see the music | |
| We show orchestration, and with funky prevention | |
| It was different and black, and it caused devestation | |
| Gotta new bag, signed a deal with wild pitch | |
| Now we' re back on the street, with the flavor you missed | |
| So get with the program, ultra hot off your real high | |
| I know i' m a real pro, like michigan fab 5 | |
| Runnin and shootin, for me alleyoopin | |
| Is makin an album, with big distribution | |
| Promote it and hype it, make up posters then snipe it | |
| Raise it up! | |
| Chorus | |
| Interlude: announcer | |
| Ladies and gentlemen, live from flatbush brooklyn | |
| I bring to you tonight, the godfather don | |
| From the orphans... | |
| " hit it!" | |
| Verse three: godfather don | |
| Lookin down the barrel of a gun is no fun | |
| So for some, i rumpumpum and flip, like a tongue | |
| Of young dragon, with the force and ten sacks of buddah | |
| To wax a crew of jacks and looters, even your hoe i shoot her | |
| In the face, with the motheruffin bass | |
| Now taste the venom of the ish that i sent em | |
| And foes, that doze, i chew em like gristle | |
| Wipe my mouth with tissue, there' s no issue | |
| I' m first print, mint, check the wizard | |
| The force of my blast, blow em like a tec in a blizzard | |
| Now what is it? exquisite physics to stain your brain | |
| When they visit cardiovascular masterer, words are massacred damn | |
| I got beats rhymes tanks gats includin ultra | |
| Check the loop, snoop low we do ya like a vulture | |
| Back in the days, there was just beef and knuckles | |
| Nowadays, a beatdown consists of some clips | |
| My oowop, rips with abandon at random | |
| Whiff, you be ghost, like michael landon | |
| When i bust amazing nuts you play the cut | |
| The father' s ultra paid, i raise it... up | |
| Chorus: repeat 2x |
| Intro: kool keith | |
| Yeah... yo don, gimme a little bit of that chicken | |
| That smooth chicken, a little bit of that gravy | |
| And i want some... old hot jazz biscuits | |
| With a little bit of that blues butter | |
| Bring in the snare | |
| Verse one: kool keith | |
| They never understood, many people were so slow | |
| My funky type of rhyme, and my style is pyscho | |
| Complex wrecks wrecks, my style go x x | |
| I move around off beat, creatin more styles | |
| Showin white boys, other kids my black styles | |
| I kick lyrics like shoes right in your face | |
| Walk up on a carjack of spades, pluck the ace | |
| I get slower, down in, on in | |
| Flowin like i used to be on critical beatdown | |
| I drop styles on ears the public bite em | |
| Not many went to school, so the dummies wouldn' t write em | |
| They say yo keith, yo kool, you usin big words | |
| I went to college, i' m even more stupid herb | |
| Back on the scene to put a lesson out | |
| Even if i have to pull a black smith and wesson out | |
| I grab a hammer stick a nail in that little crack | |
| Tame the monkey show the hummingbird how to act | |
| I get atomic, hypogalactical | |
| Word to mom i' m in my own world | |
| Galaxy raised! powerful | |
| Chorus: | |
| Raise it up 8x | |
| Verse two: ced g | |
| Yo, yo money grip money grip, now this ain' t no ego trip | |
| Yo money grip money grip, now this ain' t no ego trip | |
| Now back in the days and we used to use elevation | |
| And then the people said " what' s up, with ultramagnetic? | |
| Yo they sound kind of crazy, kool keith is a psycho | |
| Ced g is a scientist, the lyrics are hyper" | |
| Creating a fusion, of sampling hits | |
| We all came down just to be distinctive | |
| Some rappers complex, but they can' t see the music | |
| We show orchestration, and with funky prevention | |
| It was different and black, and it caused devestation | |
| Gotta new bag, signed a deal with wild pitch | |
| Now we' re back on the street, with the flavor you missed | |
| So get with the program, ultra hot off your real high | |
| I know i' m a real pro, like michigan fab 5 | |
| Runnin and shootin, for me alleyoopin | |
| Is makin an album, with big distribution | |
| Promote it and hype it, make up posters then snipe it | |
| Raise it up! | |
| Chorus | |
| Interlude: announcer | |
| Ladies and gentlemen, live from flatbush brooklyn | |
| I bring to you tonight, the godfather don | |
| From the orphans... | |
| " hit it!" | |
| Verse three: godfather don | |
| Lookin down the barrel of a gun is no fun | |
| So for some, i rumpumpum and flip, like a tongue | |
| Of young dragon, with the force and ten sacks of buddah | |
| To wax a crew of jacks and looters, even your hoe i shoot her | |
| In the face, with the motheruffin bass | |
| Now taste the venom of the ish that i sent em | |
| And foes, that doze, i chew em like gristle | |
| Wipe my mouth with tissue, there' s no issue | |
| I' m first print, mint, check the wizard | |
| The force of my blast, blow em like a tec in a blizzard | |
| Now what is it? exquisite physics to stain your brain | |
| When they visit cardiovascular masterer, words are massacred damn | |
| I got beats rhymes tanks gats includin ultra | |
| Check the loop, snoop low we do ya like a vulture | |
| Back in the days, there was just beef and knuckles | |
| Nowadays, a beatdown consists of some clips | |
| My oowop, rips with abandon at random | |
| Whiff, you be ghost, like michael landon | |
| When i bust amazing nuts you play the cut | |
| The father' s ultra paid, i raise it... up | |
| Chorus: repeat 2x |
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