Raise It Up (Original Mix)

Yeah, yo Don
Gimme a little bit of that chicken
That smooth chicken, a little bit of that gravy
And I want them old hot jazz biscuits
With a little bit of that blues butter
Bring in the snare

They never understood, many people were so slow
My funky type of rhyme and my style is psycho
Complex fresh wrecks, my style go XX
I move around offbeat, creatin' more styles
Showin' white boys, other kids, my Black styles
I kick lyrics like shoes right in your face
Walk up on the car, jack of spades, pluck the ace
I get slow off, down in, on and
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, you're cool, you're usin' big words"
I went to college, I'm even more stupid, herb
Back on the scene to pull 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, hyper, galactical
Word to mom, I'm in my own world
Galaxy rays, powerful

Raise it up, raise it up
Raise it up, raise it up
Raise it up, raise it up
Raise it up, raise it up

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 when we used to use elevation
And then the people said, "What's up with Ultramagnetic?"
Yo, they sound kinda crazy, Kool Keith is a psycho
Ced Gee is a scientist, the lyrics are hyper
Creatin' a fusion of sampling hits
We all came down just to be distinctive
Some laughed and some played, but they danced to the music
For sure orchestration and with funk intervention
It was different and Black, and it caused devastation
Got a new bag, signed a deal with Wow Bitch
Now we're back on the streets with the flavor you miss
So get with the program, hold your head up, yeah, real high
I know I'm a real pro, like Michigan's Fab Five
Runnin' and shootin', for me, alley-oopin'
Is makin' an album with big distribution
Promote it and hype it, make a focus and snipe it
Raise it up

Raise it up, raise it up
Raise it up, raise it up
Raise it up, raise it up
Raise it up, raise it up

Ladies and gentlemen, live from Flatbush, Brooklyn
I bring to you tonight the Godfather Don
From the office

Lookin' down the barrel of a gun is no fun
So for some, I rum-pa-pum and flip like a tongue
A young dragon with the force of ten sacks of buddha
The wax of Cool or Jackson, Luther, even Yehovah, true, to
In the face with the mother-uffin' bass
Now taste the venom of the ish that I send 'em
And foes, left those, 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 that's in your brain
When they visit, cardiovascular master of words that massacre, damn
I got beats, rhymes, TEC, gats, back, includin' Ultra
Check the loot, Snoop low recoup you like a vulture
Back in the days, there was just beef and knuckles
Nowadays, a beatdown consists of doves and clips
My oowop rips with abandon at random
You be caught like Michael Landon
When I bust amazing nuts, you play the cut
The Father's ultrapaid, I raise it up

Raise it up, raise it up
Raise it up, raise it up
Raise it up, raise it up
Raise it up, raise it up
Raise it up, raise it up
Raise it up, raise it up
Raise it up, raise it up
Raise it up, raise it up