CunninLynguists, Masta Ace, Mr. SOS - The Format lyrics
CunninLynguists [Deacon the Villain, Kno, Natti] Lexington, Kentucky, U.S. 🇺🇸
[CunninLynguists, Masta Ace, Mr. SOS - The Format lyrics]
The Format
If we gonna start from scratch
You start with wax
If there's no dish, then there's no rap
Records, albums, vinyl, the facts
Give us a stack of records and
We'll give you 12 tracks
The agreement turned cement 40 years ago
Hip Hop, the vinyl frontier the embryo
Two turntables a mic and a
Cold stereo, DJ, one MC, the imperial
Many many put their muse to it
Sent bop, sent rock, sent blues through it
From classical to jazz we can who’s who it
Or blow the dust off and groove to it
Let's ride b-side on direct drive
You know that crackle give the best high
Give me a needle, a cartridge, a partridge
Some tree, 45s and a 33, let it be
A new format hit the scene like way back
It was smaller and more
Convenient than 8 track
You could pop it in your car on a long drive
Play the album or fast-forward to song five
If you passed the song you
Had to rewind it back
It was kind of frustrating trying
To find a track memorex, Ampex down to TDK
Where the Biz was on the radio with BDK
When they was on the air
I was on the pause-button
I had the best taste but I
Ain't trying to cause nothing
Cause everybody thought their paws
Was the raws cats used to battle
This shit used to cause wars
We would trade tapes
That was the best it could be
Busy Bee had the fever for Treacherous Three
Having the best tapes
Was like a status symbol the yellow tape
Purple tape to the baddest demo
Battles travel from the Bronx to Baltimore
They would stand by the speaker
To record them all
Them same tapes that was labeled
With a thick marker
Made the neighbourhood rappers want
To spit sharper
If my tape pop trust, I was ready man
A razor blade, scotch tape and a steady hand
I call it surgery
My cassette went under the knife
And brought back to life
Man that's word to me
If you want it, I got it
That which makes you move
"It's the format baby"
If you want it, I got it
That which makes you cool
"It's the format baby"
My relationship with bass and kicks
Had come full circle
Plastic and cheap but I clapped to the beat
Stab the repeat button and keep running
And that's something you can't
Get from tape dubbing
Skip the skips with a flick of the wrist
More time to check what's sick on the list
The fickle dismissed this little digital disk
But try and play vinyl in the whip
It'll skip
And it's '96, I'm trying to get laid now
Chose the format with binary laid down
1s and 0s, and 0s and 1s
Flood the BOSE with flows and drums
Blunts get blown in my homie's truck
We sitting on chrome, little bone thugs
We got wheels, we ain't trying to walk man
CD's nuts, there's dust on my walkman
Follow me entering this digital odyssey
Holy matrimony but harder to see
Everywhere but non-existant, what a conundrum
Upgraded but they say we forgot
Where we come from
The past feels even further with every second
Off the record, the coming and going of Kbps
In the day of the instant message
The message is misdirected and the
Receiver seems to be disconnected
But don't complain, love game
Even after the flood came and
Left our neighbors over-saturated
With no computer love, just computer bugs
Hate the virus and not the hacker
That's what a loser does
Meanwhile, the kids are playing shoot em' ups
Trying to be the 20 version of Super Thug
Press reset
Any era you wish to visit is next
Hold on as we eject
If we gonna start from scratch
You start with wax
If there's no dish, then there's no rap
Records, albums, vinyl, the facts
Give us a stack of records and
We'll give you 12 tracks
The agreement turned cement 40 years ago
Hip Hop, the vinyl frontier the embryo
Two turntables a mic and a
Cold stereo, DJ, one MC, the imperial
Many many put their muse to it
Sent bop, sent rock, sent blues through it
From classical to jazz we can who’s who it
Or blow the dust off and groove to it
Let's ride b-side on direct drive
You know that crackle give the best high
Give me a needle, a cartridge, a partridge
Some tree, 45s and a 33, let it be
A new format hit the scene like way back
It was smaller and more
Convenient than 8 track
You could pop it in your car on a long drive
Play the album or fast-forward to song five
If you passed the song you
Had to rewind it back
It was kind of frustrating trying
To find a track memorex, Ampex down to TDK
Where the Biz was on the radio with BDK
When they was on the air
I was on the pause-button
I had the best taste but I
Ain't trying to cause nothing
Cause everybody thought their paws
Was the raws cats used to battle
This shit used to cause wars
We would trade tapes
That was the best it could be
Busy Bee had the fever for Treacherous Three
Having the best tapes
Was like a status symbol the yellow tape
Purple tape to the baddest demo
Battles travel from the Bronx to Baltimore
They would stand by the speaker
To record them all
Them same tapes that was labeled
With a thick marker
Made the neighbourhood rappers want
To spit sharper
If my tape pop trust, I was ready man
A razor blade, scotch tape and a steady hand
I call it surgery
My cassette went under the knife
And brought back to life
Man that's word to me
If you want it, I got it
That which makes you move
"It's the format baby"
If you want it, I got it
That which makes you cool
"It's the format baby"
My relationship with bass and kicks
Had come full circle
Plastic and cheap but I clapped to the beat
Stab the repeat button and keep running
And that's something you can't
Get from tape dubbing
Skip the skips with a flick of the wrist
More time to check what's sick on the list
The fickle dismissed this little digital disk
But try and play vinyl in the whip
It'll skip
And it's '96, I'm trying to get laid now
Chose the format with binary laid down
1s and 0s, and 0s and 1s
Flood the BOSE with flows and drums
Blunts get blown in my homie's truck
We sitting on chrome, little bone thugs
We got wheels, we ain't trying to walk man
CD's nuts, there's dust on my walkman
Follow me entering this digital odyssey
Holy matrimony but harder to see
Everywhere but non-existant, what a conundrum
Upgraded but they say we forgot
Where we come from
The past feels even further with every second
Off the record, the coming and going of Kbps
In the day of the instant message
The message is misdirected and the
Receiver seems to be disconnected
But don't complain, love game
Even after the flood came and
Left our neighbors over-saturated
With no computer love, just computer bugs
Hate the virus and not the hacker
That's what a loser does
Meanwhile, the kids are playing shoot em' ups
Trying to be the 20 version of Super Thug
Press reset
Any era you wish to visit is next
Hold on as we eject