Featured track from the mash up album, "Dirty Jazz, Filthy Fonk" produced by Aww Bee Lizzzard.

001 - Gangstarr - DWYCK

I'm a rowdy roddy piper I flash my dread Sherlock Holmes
The thicker the richer the bigger the dread
So I don't need no honeycomb
So eeney, meeney, miney, mo good goobelly goo I bumped my toe
Oh-oh, "oh-oh better get Maaco" chocolate Chip's about to flow
The super the cola the fraja the listic expialadope Chip
When the mic is gripped in ridobidobip bip da be bong de dang, Bo!
'Cause worries and boderations when I raps it up again and again But not 
With the same FU style I'm wicked and wild and versatile
When the mic is gripped by Chip you better believe it's worth your while
Pause for the cause stop make way hurry up
Here I come come come
My lyrical styles are not to tfos nos in other words
They're not soft son rocks it rigade raggamuffin say it backwards
Aggarniffum so abra Fu alacazam run come follow me man
Put it by one phenomenon huminahumina I'm not done
Me-oh-me oh my hello hello hi
I'm not Huckleberry Finn I'm still speaking, shoo, fly
Don't bother I
So Fe hello hifi Fu fo, I make shapes with Pay-dough re me
Near far then I will stitch sew Lipton Tea bo Tae Kwon Do
Lyrics are bubbling, bubbling, bubbling, bubbling, bubbling,
Bubbling,*bubbling,*bubbling,*bubbling,*bubbling,*bubbling,*bubbling,
Bubbling til' they're boiled
So don't drink the milk, Why? Cause it's rotten in other words it's
Spoiled
So don't say drats, drats double or triple or quadruple drats
Me big and me black and me hot up de spot G jumping Jehosphats
Some mic's rhymes ain't saying jack nor Jill
And of my styles they peak-a-boo o what I
Doo wa diddy diddy dumb diddy FU
So peace to this FU, peace to that FU
And a true FU, Poc Fu, is what I dub you

[Repeat x3]
I'm a true, what I am a true Fuschnick

So sit, Buddah sit what lyrical styles should we kick?

Rock n' roll, rock'n roll!
What's up with hip-hop, reggae, let's kick some soul
I'll be a braveman like Captain Caveman
Unga bunga, yapple-daple
Oh, snap! Holy batfu, it's an apple
The capital P.O.C. is on a fliptop so hip, hip hooray
Move out my way
Check out what I cockadoodle doo
See it's true I needed psychiatric help
When I was small I had "Poc-Fu" on my nameplate belt
Then at last suffering succotash I waste no more time
Used my noodle yankee doodle came up with a rhyme
That was wild, bugged, delirious, looney
Damn! it's hittin' hard
That's word to Jerry Cooney
Knocking heads off shoulders rippin' 'em clean
You can even ask iddy (why?) he know what I mean 
'Cause I'm a

[Repeat x3]
I'm a true, what? I am a true Fuschnick

So sit, Buddah sit what lyrical styles should we kick?

Moc's on wax grip, this ain't no demo
Don't even try to flex or uck-fay with my
Mental contender, Apollo
Time for training, jack
Agenda. The M.O. also the Asian Mack
In fact I will attract, shock shit, a true Fuschnick
Classified as I crop to the crip
Not a gimmick to the limit, upset, confused,
You gotta want
From the excess food called waste
But a taste of oriental True Fu
No haste as I pace
Gogoo gogoo, nanoo-nanoo
Styles that'll have you becomin' a Fuschnick too
Psyche!
Wait a minute, you thought that I was finished
Beginnin' in a hum endin' in a beat drum
Beat?
You like it, it's comin' from the Tribe, side by side
Third stage is the Moc
Unifying lyrics until my tongue drops
Considered as an mc klepto
Techniques could be beat, you think so?
Hell, no!
Romp and rage upon the scene like a lyrical
Ninja master
Crazy zany voiced out styles
That had ya in a dimension as I mentioned
A True Fu steppin'
All attention to the Micken
Styles that I am kickin', whippin', flexin, never flippin
Asian that is hittin' hard until my cup runneth over
Like a boulder never told ya
The M.O. was in control of
Oriental styles to compile or get with
Fiend as I hold the mic with a tight grip
Slipped!
Ha, ha, ha!
That's what you get when you mess around with a true Fuschnick

Fu-Schnickens | True Fuschnick (1992)

O.C. - Time's Up

8. Johnny Slash & Coast LoCastro - Max Ego

Redman - Time 4 Sum Aksion (1992)

Black Moon - Powaful Impak (1993)

Ice Cube - True to the Game (1991) (Radio Mix)

APACHE - GANGTA BITCH (12 VERSION)

Gangstarr ft. Nice & Smooth - DWYCK

Lyrics:


Yo! we in there, yeah yeah (*repeats*)

[KRS-One]
The type of lyrical terrorism that I present
Educates people, at the same time pays my rent
You've been hearin me now for the past twelve semesters
When the suckers stepped up, I had to use the drastic measures
I know you want to step to me kid!
But you're thinkin, "Damn, Kris is kinda big!"
Plus he rolls wit a crew that don't care
And drops a hit album, hit video, hit single every year
From your eye drops a tear
I don't play that shit, I play that hit
Your whole gangsta image is not legit
You heard _Criminal Minded_, and bit the whole shit
Now if I punch you in your face I'd be wrong
Don't even think about battling with a song
You'll be gone, your career ain't strong enough to call my bluff
You ain't rough, you ain't tough, you'll be handcuffed
With your ribcage crushed
Naked in a box, with multicolored tube socks
You know my FUCKIN name
Blastmaster KRS is thinkin LONG range!

Yeah we in there, yeah yeah (repeat 4X)

[KRS-One]
They are in there, like you'll soon be in prison
(You await and this is faggot, your ass you'll be given)
Who you kiddin?  You're only tryin to rock a party
You ain't really down to shoot nobody
So why you frontin?  Sayin from the cops you be runnin
In jail in a pair of panties you look just stunning
You pop all that wannabe shit on vinyl
Until your ass is bein pumped by some faggot named Lionel
In jail you ain't got respect
You a fairy, I'll be takin your commisary
And the picture of your sister, mister
As seamy as Pee-Wee Herman, I ain't trying to diss her
This ain't no bullshit game and I ain't changed
I'm just thinkin LONG range
People died so I can rhyme..
you think I'm gonna grab the mic and waste my nation's time?
Step up with that weak shit
You're psychologically, historically, and spiritually sick
Plus you're on my dick
Changin the subject, your rhyme style ain't correct
You know my FUCKIN name!
Blastmaster KRS is thinking LONG range!

Yeah we in there, yeah yeah (*repeats*)

This is the part where the ladies get ill (yeah, yeah)
This is the part where the fellas get ill (yeah, yeah)
This is the part where East Coast gets ill (yeah, yeah)
This is the part where the West Coast gets ill (yeah, yeah)

Redman - Time 4 Sum Aksion (1992)

Hip Hop Classics