written by: vanilla ice, tha hit men, darryl delite
allamby, zero
produced by: vanilla ice & zero
published by: ice baby music, inc., dj zero music, inc.,
oliver and cooley music publishing, bmi.
keyboards: darryl delite allamby
background vocals (rap): vanilla ice
mix by: vanilla ice
synchclavier engineer: robert wechsler
recorded & mixed at luminous studios, inc.
here comes the lyrical breakdown,
move out the way punk, and take a seat clown,
it´s the ice man slicin´, dicin´.
hittin´ like tyson.
so listen to the rhythm i givin´ em,
my lyrics got the impact of a mac truck
when i´m sendin´ ´em
yo, my funky rhymes flow,
kickin it like psycho
and i´m exploding like nitro-glis,
coming like a hurricane bliss,
straight sacking the track like a quarterback
my man zero is back with a killer slice,
i´m blowin´ up the mic,
ya damn right, vanilla ice
with twice the punch,
i put the crunch on marky
and take the funky out of his bunch.
i hit the home run
you got to third base, son.
i´m in first place,
take a seat clown for the beatdown.
uh, tonight´s the night of the big fight,
with the mic in my hand i got the grip tights.
ready to swing it like a louisville slugger,
right at the head of a sucka,
crack home run.
how did it feel to have the mic hit ya dome, son? uh!
i tried to make your head ring like a church bell.
i put it on ya hard
i´ll make ya hurt well,
cuz you fell into my booby traps
no more good vibrations,
i´m tired of your boots raps,
so i eat ya like scooby snacks,
an maybe roll you like a zig zag
or smoke you like a hootie mac,
you did what i did,
so you´re gonna lose kid,
cuz to me you´re still a new kid on the block
get off my jock,
get off my diznok
before you get dropped
for the beatdown
yeh, this is the last verse,
should i say the last round.
and its time i knock out another class clown.
sit down and take notes
as vanilla kicks ballistics withdope lyrics,
oh waht a pity, though
cuz ya had to spend three million dollars on your video.
it was video and i can admit that,
all that money´s wasted cuz your songs wacked,
i make stuff to make the people gather.
an´ let ´em see us in a pit,
i wanna slam dance with ya, hammer.
now can i kick it, of course i can.
yo, you will get burned out, then turned out.
i´m gonna keep comin stong, song after song,
ya thought i´d fade, well ya did wrong.
i´m the imperial threat for this sound fools.
ha ha, here comes the lyrical beatdown.