[Intro: Bob Dylan]
I've indulged in higher knowledge, took scan of encyclopedia
Keeping constant research of our reports in news media
Kids starve in Ethiopia and we are gettin' greedier
The rich are gettin' richer and the needy's gettin' needier
(Rock!)
(The streets!)
(Rock!)
(The streets!)
(Rock!)
(The streets!)
(Rock!)
(The streets!)
Yes, yes, y'all
I'm the best y'all
Yes, yes, y'all
I'm the best y'all
[Verse 1]
Introducing to you, from the music affair
You all prayed for a change so revelation is here, ha
The battle of crusades and the Vietnam War
Was only a start so now get ready for more
We've been dancing on the streets upon stumbling blocks
But now Bill Black's here to put it all to a stop
Enthusiasm's your tuition, to listen's your ambition
To rock the streets and funky beats is Bill Black's mission
Creating funky beats that will cure the ill
Here's a prescription for you, so go ahead, rip up your will
Because he's the terminator, dead body cremator
Intimating thugs who thought their cuts were greater
He's the father of soul committing you to his goal
With Kurtis Blow by his side, I will roll
And when it comes to rap, you better pay your respect
'Cause I'm a [?] project
Some call me Al Capone of eighties, Romeo of ladies
Interpretates obfuscated rhymes to babies
Expand the minds of young through books from libraries
And teachin' them actual facts [?]
Don't ask me to produce it, I refuse to induce it
And knowledge of my rhymes, said when you don't use it
[?] lock, all of my triggers are cocked
And if you make the wrong move, consider your street rocked
They held a gun to our head till we were moved to the top
[?] and you got shot
I can't take it no more, I'm not going for short
Because I'm more qualified for a better resort
I've been pushed, shoved, just a bit too much
Now my fist is balled tight and my teeth are clutched
I'm mad as hell, going to explode
When you're hit by the debris, don't say that you weren't told
You tried to bend my ego and break my pride
Caused me to let out everything I used to hold inside
You see, you stole my title, you thought I was hurt
Now I'm mad as hell bustin' out of my shirt
I just popped the chains and crashed out of the cage
Now I'm a stark-raving lunatic on the rampage
Got a mic in my palm, a 12-gauge in my arm
The fire's already lit, too late to pull the alarm
You want to back out now when you was winning at last
Now I'm gonna make you feel my wrath, feel it!
[Verse 2]
We took our choice of our weapons and you chose the knife
You called me foolish then you laughed when I chose the mic
Go ahead and sharpen your blade while I plug in the cord
Goddamn, I proved the tongue is mightier than the sword
Man, your game is through and your goose is cooked
'Cause I can read your mind, it's like a open book
And your every move is in my control
And you know I'm the winner deep down in your soul
But you wanna play stubborn, that's why I'm pissed
And now it's time for your face to get dissed
You held me down for too long, now I'm calling your bluff
Streets need to be rocked, they need to be rocked tough
Streets have called my name for years, but now that I'm found
Here is the ultimate chain to the hip-hop sound
The duplicated, complicated, arranged so I can state it
The modern-day technology, computer: isolate it
Just me and Bill Black cold rockin' the street
And pulling up the ground with the ultimate beat
You better not stand still, get a move to that butt
Don't need to spin on your head, do a casual strut
Go move your body to a sound, [?] down
With the bass drum you can hear for miles around
We got our rap down pat and the beat by Black
A little scratchin' on the side with a fresh handclap
Turn the volume up loud, put the push in the bass
Guarantee we're gonna turn out the place
But if still seems like you can't party and your feet won't jump
But you don't know how to dance to any kind of junk
Your body moves side to side, then front to back
That's the way your body moves to a beat by Black
'Cause it's the rhythm that he's given, you gotta go with him
Regardless of your race, creed, color, or religion
Come on, join in the fun, I want you all to get some
Just as long as you can keep up with the pace of the drum
The funky fresh will make you feel it, no longer we conceal it
The beat has been on hold too long and now we must reveal it
Don't stand in our way, no longer can we be stopped
I'm tired of this mess, Black, I want these streets rocked!
[Guitar solo]
[Chorus]
I've indulged in higher knowledge, took scan of encyclopedia
And keeping constant research of our reports in news media
Kids starve in Ethiopia and we are gettin' greedier
The rich are gettin' richer and the needy's gettin' needier
[Verse 3]
But all we do is talk about hunger and strife
Tell me what did you to perfect your life?
You hang on street corners, juggle reputation and game
When you're dead or in jail, there's no one that you can blame
Because you're the instigator, family separator
Your friends don't even wanna be bothered 'cause you're a traitor
But I'm not tryna talk you off of that street corner
'Cause a man won't do what a man don't wanna
But summer's around, I think you better beware
Of a happening that occurs this time of the year
It's a thumpin' that beats deep down in your heart
It's a craving that can even rip your soul apart
And it's the urge that raves throughout the street
Make everyone jump wild and lose control of their feet
Something that beams through the rain, through the sun and the sky
It's microscopic, it cannot be seen by your naked eye
Unconscious thought, taking control of your body
Now you ought to be jumpin' at a jam-packed party
With your big butt shakin', I know it shows
You lose control of your head, arms, legs, and your toes
You got your beatbox blastin' and now you're in shock
Because the ground beneath your feet has all crumbled to rock
You take control of yourself, soon as the music stops
And realize you've been hit by the beat of Street Rock!
[Outro]
(Rock!)
The rich are gettin' richer
(The streets!)
The rich are gettin' richer
(Rock!)
Kids starve in Ethiopia and we are gettin' greedier
(The streets!)
(Rock!)
(The streets!)
Kids starve in Ethiopia
(Rock!)
(The streets!)
The rich are gettin' richer
The rich are gettin' richer
(Rock!)
I've indulged in higher knowledge
(The streets!)
The rich are gettin' richer
Street Rock was written by Tashim & Kurtis Blow & Bill Black (DJ).
Street Rock was produced by Kurtis Blow.