Jet Lee - Trip Jones

Shit. Gotta wake up, get to the studio and shit Clock up on another one Ridin' again, I'll probably drive a couple hours Now I'm flyin' again (Feel that, see that, be that) Tryin' to win, I'm out here tryin' for repentance While I'm eyein my kin (I never) Got a spotlight, I only confiscate it You in a league of one, you gotta highly moderate it I smelt a smoking gun, I analyzed and calculated All the while, I contemplated all the time that he'd be facin 25 To life, for homicide expectin' racists Just to set a nigga free For bein brown and angel faced (Tch) See the plaintiff and the bailiff, makin' faces Starin' at they parallel cause they know fate is so adjacent Same spaces, smell of lily roses As we mourn the final restin' place of rappin' for exposure Searchin' for some closure while they murder our persona The truth'll set you free, that's why I murder for my culture I'm feelin' the vibe, I'm feelin' the vibe I'm feelin' the vibe I'm feelin' the vibe (Nahh) I'm feelin' the vibe, I'm feelin' the vibe I'm feelin' the vibe I'm feelin' the vibe (No) I'm feelin' the vibe, I'm feelin' the vibe I'm feelin' the vibe I'm feelin' the vibe It don't matter, kick it like Jet Lee in his prime (Wow) Back when I was back up at apartment 8 My grandma place is not a restaurant I'm talkin bout the spot my grandma stay Hollow tips and 'volver spray Common sense a common wave Not alot of promise When you got the cops around the way Sound away Got us another, look what we found today How you mothafu-, sucka punched him Justice find a way Then they kickin', stompin' Crackin' body shots around the waist They he get to cussin' Now his fuckin' blood around the place How we get to sumthin When Obama couldn't finally I ain't got the answers But I promise I could find em Sway I survived every block and broken bed I ever made Not to mention found myself in boxes Though I never stayed Got Mahatma Ghandi on my mind since I was second grade Spotted higher echelons, and now its like I never prayed Now I'm bout my practice, showin God I'm bout my power play Cause I'm fairly certain that it's all my higher power say Big Bama wit a sick grammar I'm a survivor not a rapper, used to cases not the cameras But I kept my soul and plus I did alotta damage My spectacular vernacular could rile a pack of panthers Calculated stanzas, and immaculate appearance Dancin at the moon, I'm glancin, starin' at the mirror Then they multiplied it now my vision with the spirits I wrote my life away, and I just hope that y'all could hear it Cause I'm I'm feelin' the vibe, I'm feelin' the vibe I'm feelin' the vibe I'm feelin' the vibe I'm feelin' the vibe, I'm feelin' the vibe I'm feelin' the vibe I'm feelin' the vibe I'm feelin' the vibe, I'm feelin' the vibe I'm feelin' the vibe I'm feelin' the vibe It don't matter, kick it like Jet Lee in his prime (Wow)

You can ride all day long Another Myke Diesel production (Mike Jones) But you'll never catch Mr. Jones He's got a gang that's far too strong (Ice Age, Ice Age, Ice Age) Your friends know it, that's why you're all alone Chasing a man you can't see (Mike Jones) So just walk away and let him be He's got a shotgun so go back home (Who? Mike Jones Who? Mike Jones) 'Cause you'll never get Mr. Jones (Mike Jones, Mike Jones) I'm back, my music tracks about to sell another mil' My pants stay saggin' from them hundred dollar bills These haters hate but they don't really wanna see the steel These haters hate but they don't really wanna see the steel Had a million in my bank before Asylum bought the deal Had a million in my bank before Asylum bought the deal Before I came I just say the streets wouldn't feel The - that I'm spittin', the - that's real But now I'm like Melo, I'm the king of the hill American dream, I'm livin' that for real Eleven cars later - tell me how you feel Took the diamonds off my teeth And put 'em on my Phantom grill (smile, ha ha) You can ride all day long (Mike Jones) But you'll never catch Mr. Jones He's got a gang that's far too strong (Ice Age, Ice Age, Ice Age) Your friends know it, that's why you're all alone Chasing a man you can't see (Mike Jones) So just walk away and let him be He's got a shotgun so go back home (Who? Mike Jones Who? Mike Jones) 'Cause you'll never get Mr. Jones (Mike Jones, Mike Jones) I used to get dissed by the chicks in the club Now they want to rub my belly, wanna show your boy some love They see me iced up, they be like, "What's up?" Try to jack me if you wanna, I'ma leave you - up Used to roll hatchback, now I'm Cadillac and Benz Used to roll hatchback, now I'm Cadillac and Benz I used to have homies, now I'm like, "- friends" 'Cause even back then all they did was pretend Now I got my own label Ice Age and I'm boss I'm the mayor of this town with the key to that vault All my cars black on black except the one with thick gloss Got another white on white I call that - rick Rick Ross (Ross) You can ride all day long (Mike Jones) But you'll never catch Mr. Jones He's got a gang that's far too strong (Ice Age, Ice Age, Ice Age) Your friends know it, that's why you're all alone (hahahahahaha) Chasing a man you can't see (you can't see me, baby) So just walk away, and let him be He's got a shotgun so go back home (Who? Mike Jones Who? Mike Jones) 'Cause you'll never get Mr. Jones (Mike Jones, Mike Jones) Hey Now make it rain Hey Now make it rain Hey Now make it rain American Dream, album and movie on the way, baby

(Rhythm is both the song's manacle and it's demonic charge. It is the original breath, it is the whisper of unremitting demand. "What do you still want of me?", says the singer. "What do you think you can still draw from my lips?" Exact presence that no fantasy can represent. Purveyor of the oldest secret, alive with the blood that boils again, and is pulsing where the rhythm is torn apart. How your singer's blood is incensed at the depth of sound. Lacerations echo in the mouth's open erotic sky where dance together the lost frenzies of rhythm and an imploring immobility. Ladies and gentlemen, Miss Grace Jones. Jones the Rhythm.) Slave! Slave to the rhythm Dance to the rhythm Axe to wood in ancient times Man machine, production line The fire burns, with heartbeats strong Sing out loud, the chain gang song Never stop the action Keep it up, keep it up Never stop the action Keep it up, keep it up Slave to the rhythm Dance to the rhythm, The rhythm... master... master... Never stop the action, keep it up Never stop the action Keep it up, keep it up. Slave to the rhythm, work to the rhythm, Dance to the rhythm, live to the rhythm. Slave to the rhythm, Dance to the rhythm, live to the rhythm, Slave to the rhythm, work... to the rhythm, To the rhythm, work to the rhythm, to the rhythm. Slave, slave, To the rhythm, to the rhythm, to the rhythm. (Grace) Oh that's weird... (Grace Jones, welcome) Thank you Paul. And if you're wondering what's wrong with my voice, I just choked on my saliva. So... (Now obviously you're in the Bond movie.)