NANE

by Funky DL

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about

[CLICK EACH SONG TITLE FOR TRACK SYNOPSIS & LYRICS]

If you already know anything about Funky DL, you should know that he has released many studio albums. 13 up until this point and that doesn’t include the 2 full studio albums from his “Funky DL samples Amy Winehouse” series, nor any compilation or remix albums. If we counted those… the number would be… well lets just say “up there”.

NANE is the 14th official studio album from Funky DL and this album bleeds “hip-hop” throughout. That may seem a strange thing to say about a hip-hop album by a hip-hop artist, but what is meant is that it seems the intention was to create an album that focuses on the “core” that is hip-hop and not all the sub genre’s and the sometimes tiresome possibilities that come with them.

Although NANE is indeed very musical and has a hint of jazz, it doesn’t carry the in-depth jazz swing of DL’s 2011 effort “Blackcurrent Jazz 2”. But this is what makes it superbly refreshing. The ability for any artist to step away from the style of preceded works is a brave and bold move by any standard. The key in it being executed successfully is for the artist to understand why the departure is necessary and what could creatively come from it.

Although DL does jazzy hip-hop as well as the best of em’, his focus on the deeper and raw essence of hip-hop makes the NANE album instantly interesting, listenable and enjoyable. This album is not a complete turn in the other direction to what people know and love from Funky DL, but more another side to his many faceted dimensions.

During the listen, you’ll hear everything you love about hip-hop. Playful beats, beautiful poetic wordplay and the edginess of the grooves are just a few factors that make this album stand out. It’s almost like the album every hip-hop artist wanted to make if they are honest, as its own honesty comes from the fact that there are no attempts for a commercial or pop hit. There’s no straying endeavour or pursuit to have the latest club banger or radio friendly hook. Even in one or two of the albums more mellow moments, scratching replaces the typical mainstream hook attempt.

Totalling 10 tracks, it’s a brief affair and that adds to the “rewind-ability” factor. The finesse in the production and arrangement is to DL’s credit. He does here what he does best in making ‘good music’…

So whether it’s the boom bap of “Def Lyricist”, the classy beams of “Clock-watchers, the simplicity of “Heaven Sent”, the subtlety of “ Land of the Kings”, the sentiment of “I Stole Your Life” or the fire fuelling of “Walk of a Champion, NANE will undoubtedly join so many other of Funky DL’s previous albums in the ranking of… “CLASSIC”.

credits

released 26 November 2012
All LYRICS WRITTEN BY: N. NEWMAN

ALL MUSIC PRODUCED BY: FUNKY DL FOR WASHINGTON CLASSICS 2012

RECORDED & MIXED BY: FUNKY DL AT THE WASHINGTON SOUNDLAB

ALL CUTS & SCRATCHES BY FUNKY DL EXCEPT ON "DEF LYRICIST", BY DJ 279

ALBUM OUTRO KEYBOARDS: XANTONÉ BLACQ

ART, DESIGN & LAYOUT: WASHART

FRONT COVER PHOTOGRAPHY: M. AMANING

FUNKY DL LOGO: DANIEL HOARE

WASHINGTON CLASSICS LOGO: SANCHEZ AT VICIOUS CIRCLE DESIGN

EXECUTIVE PRODUCER: N. NEWMAN

DJ 279 APPEARS ON "DEF LYRICIST" COURTESY OF NUMBERMAN PRODUCTIONS

DYANNA FEARON APPEARS ON "I STOLE YOUR LIFE" COURTESY OF NO FEAR PRODUCTIONS

GODS SON APPEARS ON "WALK OF A CHAMPION" COURTESY OF WASHINGTON CLASSICS

XANTONÉ BLACQ APPEARS ON “THE ALBUM OUTRO” COURTESY OF PLATINUM FINGERS MUSIC

THE COPYRIGHT IN THIS SOUND RECORDING IS OWNED BY WASHINGTON CLASSICS © 2012

WEB: WWW.FUNKYDL.COM
EMAIL: CONTACTUS@WASHINGTONCLASSICS.COM
FACEBOOK: WWW.FACEBOOK.COM/FUNKYDLOFFICIAL
TWITTER: WWW.TWITTER.COM/FUNKYDLHIPHOP

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Track Name: Def Lyricist "featuring DJ 279"
Chorus //
(scratching) Funky DL, the brother don't swear he nice… he knows he's nice (echo)


Verse One //
Funky DL, I’m bucking to fight lyrically,
but when I swing all these rappers, they be ducking the mic /
I know they're trying get they're shine on like they stuck in the light /
but I’m so swoosh with it like I’m fucking with Nike /
I just do it, I’m so smooth fluid like Enrique /
I’m East London’s finest fucka’ "H.A.C.K." /
C.L.A.P now that spells clap /
I’m from Clapton, you better clap a tonne when I rap /
if you wanna talk crap, I ain't trying to talk back /
you can say what you want, but you can’t cut the fact
that I’m one of the illest' and realest to make you feel this
and witness while I diminish these rappers and leave em’ finished /
this is business, I do this for the listeners /
so everybody wanna' come and hear it like it's whispers /
the Def Lyricist "it ain't hard to tell /
I'm the funk to the Y to the D to the L


Chorus //
(scratching) Funky DL, the brother don't swear he nice… he knows he's nice… Def Lyricist


Verse Two //
They say life is what you make it so I’m writing that script /
some MC’s turned commersh' and they was hyping to switch /
call it what you want, I guess they lost the fight to the itch /
so I don’t really see nothing but a mic' and a bitch /
holding on to that real shit, I tighten my grip /
so step off with that moist shit and tighten your zip /
and think of something much better when you’re writing your shit /
I just say it how I see it, I ain’t biting my lip /
I work hard for these stages and I parred with the greatest /
I been broke as joke and made marvellous papers /
a one man band so just calm with the favours /
and go work like I work and get a job with your neighbours /
or your Pops or whoever, I ain't trying to sound clever /
I don’t need to fuckin' try, that’s an effortless endeavour /
I’m one of the nicest, you know what I mean? /
And this ain't MTV but that’s a sweet sixteen… NUH!!


Chorus //
(scratching) Funky DL, on the microphone… the brother don't swear he nice… he knows he's nice… Def Lyricist


Verse Three //
I take rap back and roll with my cap back /
this ain't no act, fact! I’m acing em’ Blackjack! /
ya’ll wanna chat, chat? Then knock yourself out /
you can put on that wack act and knock your wealth out! /
I ain't stumbling or stuttering these lyrics that I’m uttering /
these haters wanna' hate me cos I’m back up in the cut again /
I’m still learning, I’m still track burning /
you can hit me with your tennis serve, I still keep returning /
and I’m so damned determined to eradicate the vermin /
while I’m writing and I’m turning over revenue and earnings /
with a style that’s so discerning like I’m trying to pull a girl into my
dressing room in Berlin while I’m rocking with the Germans /
(bad bwoy!) Funk Delta to the Lima /
got my eyes on tomorrow like Miriam Makeba /
I’m so international my fam call me VISA /
if you never heard of Funky, then you better raise your steez up!


Chorus //
(scratching) Funky DL, the brother don't swear he nice… Def Lyricist
Track Name: Clock-watchers
Intro //
Time (x2)


Chorus //
(scratching) time, it goes on and, and on and on and on, and ya' don't stop /
and the shit don't stop, it goes on and, and on and on and on


Verse One //
What was left for me to do after Black Jazz 2? /
had to escape the studio and send myself back to school /
now I'm a law student, I got the Mens Rea /
combine the Actus Reus, put an end to your career /
now I'm sitting in a class three times a week /
trying to study, plus get this money cos' these times are bleak /
the world's flat broke, real-talk, no GAS like flat Coke /
people start to lack hope and all because some fat bloke,
Mayor or Politician leave you with no pot to piss in /
and voting ain't changing nothing, them sucka's don't even listen /
wishing for Gods Miracles, I’m only a man /
Superhero in def lyricals and known in Japan /
here to bring you something much slicker than the oil in Iran /
and prone to make a sudden move but I can show em' my hands /
I’m bout' to show em’ my plans if they can show me some grand’s /
don’t get it twisted, I’m a misfit that can hold em’ to ransom /
and I’m soaring like an Eagle, observing all things illegal /
Condemning everything evil like people who killing people /
is this the way of the world?
Is it from disobeying the girl that provided their birth and welcomed them to Earth? /
It can take days and it can take months /
you can be wrong a milli' times but only be right once /
and yeah that one time matters, just look at Barak /
so I don’t really have the time for sitting watching the clock… clock-watchers


Chorus // (x2)
(scratching) time, it goes on and, and on and on and on, and ya' don't stop /
and the shit don't stop, it goes on and, and on and on and on (clock-watchers)


Verse Two //
Yo’, what was left for me to say after they caused so much pain? /
And left the people feeling crazy like they're going insane? /
The only place to find some privacy's inside of your brain /
you just a number so wonder peeps don’t call you by name /
and make you feel like everything you want is all in your range /
maybe it is, maybe it isn’t, may be time for some change /
it's like we living in the Matrix and we know something's strange /
and cannot wait for the days when we can show em’ their shame /
but for now, even though you don’t wanna, got to learn to hold your corner /
even though you just wanna let off steam just like a sauna /
keep the faith, pray, meditate, find your way /
levitate beyond the brave and hesitating never pays /
so I’m quick fast, hit the ground running /
choose my peeps real careful,
I don’t hang around cunning individuals who using me to further their agenda /
put my foot down and now they act like I am the offender /
I don’t know about that, I just know about rap,
family, love, life, law, little this ‘n’ that /
it’s a wrap for them parasites who keep on coming back (echo) /
yo, it can take days and it can take months /
you can be wrong a million times but only be right once /
yeah that one time matters to get to the top /
so I don’t really have the time for sitting watching the clock… clock-watchers


Chorus // (x2)
(scratching) time, it goes on and, and on and on and on, and ya' don't stop /
and the shit don't stop, it goes on and, and on and on and on (clock-watchers)


Outro //
Time (x5)
Track Name: Heaven Sent
Chorus // (x2)
Heaven sent, yeah she the most magnificent, (funky) /
(scratching) well that's true, that's why we never have no beef


Verse One //
I called her "Heaven Sent", illmatic chick had to "represent" /
strutting like the First Lady, trying to make her President /
took her to my residence, the opposite of hesitant /
precedent set, evidence was embellishment /
sexy, unique phone alert when she text me /
use my right hand for most things, she a lefty /
Def be trembling his leg, E. Presley /
baby I don’t really care about where all the rest be /
Chesty double D, all up on my vest "B" /
MVP, I’m recruiting from the best league /
very good looking but that’s far from what impressed me /
she just got a banging vibe, something like the S.P. /
got the kind of figure that be saying "undress me" /
expressly, show her my respect nevertheless "G" /
so I guess she's an Angel, nothing less /
I’m blessed to beat the rest for the chance to progress


Chorus // (x2)


Verse Two //
She a fly chick, passing brothers by like she my chick /
eye liner slick, broad hips plus her thighs thick /
cheeks rosy she far from a trophy /
photographs are posy, no airbrush, she knows me well /
Sean John Unforgivable smell /
Mademoiselle with number 19 Chanel /
I step straight up to bat, number 9 Burrell /
and holding it down for life, only time will tell /
and she rhyme as well, she kind of nice on the M. I. C. /
but keep it out the studio and the L.I.V. E. /
yeah she running the beats /
and got a whole lot of friends but don’t be running the streets /
she’s more classy but never turns her nose up nasty /
sassy, remember when I couldn’t let her pass me /
so I guess she's an Angel, nothing less /
I’m blessed to beat the rest for the chance to progress


Chorus // (x2)


Verse Three //
I’ll never go ever so low /
when the weather’s so cold, she be ever so bold rolling /
North-faced out, she chilling like she snow strolling /
she's no Jill Scott but living like she's so golden /
I told em’, "stay away from my chick if you got bad karma" /
cos I’ll protect her with a coat made of mad armour /
Goliath stature, protect her like my Cleopatra /
disrespect her and I'll send these jokers back to the future /
she bound to get you thinking bout' the Karma-Sutra /
and dirty talking in the night on your computer /
she’s so far away from ordinary / she extraordinary /
she wanna spend time, the more the merry /
she’s something legendary, no quesh' /
so every time she in my company, I gotta' provide with the best /
so I guess she's an Angel, nothing less /
I’m blessed to beat the rest for the chance to progress


Chorus // (x2)
Track Name: Land of the Kings
Verse One //
Yo’, I was a class clown, school joker, teasing Miss Stoker /
in registration, cards lined up like its poker /
thirty minutes is over, first lesson of the day has started /
some pupils chill at the back acting retarded /
I was much more than able,
but soon the teachers labelled me
“the student that’s responsible for banging on the table” /
tried to take my skills further, made some joints you never heard a',
with the same Strappa Treese mentioned in Klashnekoff’s "Murder" /
it’s lunchtime, I grab a burger from the women that would serve ya' /
I was a keen observer of the honest and the purgers /
some of my lessons had my textbook straight wordless /
history was like punishment, I felt “I don’t deserve this” /
I wont die trying it, I guess I wasn’t Curtis /
and no I wasn’t nervous, it just didn’t serve a purpose /
this isn’t criticism of the education service (echo)


Chorus // (x4)
(scratching) Come follow we on this journey / Kickin' it in the back of the school


Verse Two //
Yo’, my year group had nearly two hundred students /
some of them were so stupid and some of them were so prudent /
and nobody was famous but neither was someone nameless
and mos def, no one was blameless /
so kids just like Mark Defraitas were accused of the latest /
like dissin’ somebody’s trainers /
and that could cause a fight in a place that we call "Las' Vegas" /
in the street now, punks jump up to get beat down /
would you believe there was referee for each round? /
And that was like an everyday thing /
where your reputation stood on whether you could really win /
I was the opposite of Michael, weren’t no lover, was a fighter /
so in school I got my tooth chipped in a brawl with Leon Tyghter /
Derek would spark a lighter and if he permits /
he’d let you join a conversation bout' who had the biggest tits /
and that included the teachers, some gave up on trying to reach us /
looking down on some students like we some pitiful creatures but we kings


Chorus // (x4)


Verse Three //
I had a lot of respect for Chris Wilson, Steve Gallagher /
the two teachers who understood my calibre /
my timetable calendar, I wish it would start with my favourite lessons,
that’s music and drama and art /
I’m so creative, that’s why I did my best and I thought hard /
so I could get an A at the top of my report card /
yeah I was kind of smart but never nerdy /
I would love to tell you more but now the time is three thirty so I’m out... we kings (echo)
Track Name: Speaking For Hip-Hop
Chorus //
I’m speaking for Hip-Hop, them sneaker wearing, loose jeans rocking / hoody popping, chilling on the corner, headphones bopping /
in the crib loud music til’ your neighbours come knocking /
(what’s the reason for this noise?) I bought the album when he dropped it / Hip-Hop, them iced out fat gold chain wearing /
middle finger in the air and stereo blaring /
loud enough to loose your hearing, that don’t mean I’m a killer /
I just like to turn it up like J Dilla


Verse One //
Check it, word up, I’m here to set the record straight /
also here to dedicate this to the peoples who judge us /
the ones that’s trying to move but can’t budge us /
snooty nosed, bitch mother-fuckers /
just because I’m from the streets and I talk a little different /
the upper class look at me like “he’s so ignorant /
he’s no role model, he shows no gratitude /
he probably grew up listening to them nigga’s with an attitude /
I’m guessing that he never worked a day in his life /
and probably never went to school, I pray that he might” /
I’m an A grade student, I love jazz music /
just as smart as the rest and if I’m wrong nigga' prove it /
Hip-Hop is my movement and there’s no contest /
and by the way I grew up listening to A Tribe Called Quest /
yes I’m young and I’m black and I got the skills to rap /
that don’t mean that I pack and I never sold Crack /
and you wonder why I’m mad, even just a little bit? /
Cos’ you talk a lot of Clay Davis that means "sheeeeeiiiit" /
your word against mine, no contest /
go find somebody else to criticise with your nonsense /
there’s eight million stories in the city, it’s a pity /
I don’t fuck with you nigga's when you start to act shitty /
give a shout out to Guru, Premo and Zulu Nation /
they all foundation up in this /
cos' rap records taught foreigners to speak English /
and turned the young into distinguished men /
that’s why I always got my pad and my pen /
forever saying this again and again


Chorus //


Verse Two //
Yo’, I got their backs against the wall with this shit /
see that’s what you get for trying to call us misfits /
we street poets, just on beats flowing /
so why you gonna’ judge somebody when you don’t know em’? (ha) /
that’s retarded /
just cos I make beats that’s the hardest and speak street slang like "raatid" /
"bombaclarted" you say it’s all garbage /
well how do you explain the rap records that have charted? /
I started rhyming on the school benches /
and learned how to beat a microphone senseless /
it’s the gift that I nurtured, these beats that I murdered /
and you still don’t know what it means when rappers say “word up” /
I don’t blame you but if you try to discredit my art /
I will name you and shame you, I swear down /
close your mouth, I don’t wanna hear a mere sound /
Hip-Hop's been so hospitable to so many cultures, it’s un-fuck-wit-able /
so I had to make this record it was critical /
to reiterate these two fucking syllables /
Hip-Hop, in the streets we the Generals


Chorus //
Track Name: Napalm
Verse One //
Ladies and Gentlemen, here come the street veteran /
lyrical homicide leaving the beat dead again /
buckle the seat belt, turn on the heat, settle in /
tanked up adrenalin, I’m better than I ever been /
"classic" so don't ever tell me that I’d never win /
them has-beens, shit ain't really popping so they meddling /
they're spastics, this ain't gonna’ stop me, I’ma get it in /
them ass whips, turbo fifth gear while they peddling plastic /
back in the days when I was a teenager /
I used to have a dream of being signed up with a major /
I been there, done that, disappear, come back /
I’m never close to done black, this could be the start /
from the days in the park when the days turned to dark /
I was aiming a mark at the game to embark /
put my name in your heart, now you armed /
with the music that’ll bang like blowing napalm


Chorus // (x2)
Ain't notin' less than my duty yo'
to put it down in the studio /
so I don’t see the point in trying to step to me yo' /
cos' all I gotta' do is make it sound beautiful (napalm)


Verse Two //
Second verse narrative, never too old for battling /
crowds started gathering trying to make a comparison /
D set the roof on flames like he was paraffin /
I better call Marilyn, probably she with an ambulance /
from the start of my career I was gambling /
no plan B to fall back, so guess I had to win /
carried many people and I doubt I’m doing that again /
now I’m bringing vitamin D like I’m Sanatogen /
so keep your distance with your shams and shenanigans /
I'm guilty of a killer flow, the jury was unanimous /
and I don’t mean to come across like an antagonist /
I turn lyrical pain into pleasure like a masochist /
and Washington Classics will be the catalyst /
to teach em' how to do it like they undergraduates /
to take em’ through the storm before the calm /
with the music that’ll bang like blowing napalm


Chorus // (x2)


Verse Three //
Third strike lucky don’t believe in only destiny /
just like Kentucky, Funky D’s the secret recipe /
so I’m getting really kind of used to people testing me /
if you disrespecting me, you’ll never see the best of me /
if you trying cursing me, you only really blessing me /
trash can talking like they coming up from Sesame /
but do not have intensity to deal with this complexity /
neither the necessity /
I’m talking bout' especially the ones who didn’t love me /
so I cut em’ like vasectomy’s /
continuing my journey on my way to find supremacy "Funky" /
all I wanna’ give you is my legacy /
I ain't got the time for contemplating peoples jealousy /
cos' when it comes to audio for me it's biochemistry /
they wanna' know my methods but I keep em confidentially /
so you can bring it on with your charm /
but I strike in the night with a mic… napalm


Chorus // (x2)
Track Name: I'm a Beast
Intro //
You see this style ya', a warning to all emcee's, seen, a warning / (exclusive)
Paddington posse, unu ready? / Brixton posse, unu ready? /
Harlesden posse, unu ready? / (exclusive) Willesden posse, unu ready?


Verse One //
Funky DL, I’m bleeding mics /
I leave rappers straight dreaming bout' sleepless nights /
you confused yet? These kids don’t seem precise /
cos' this is grown man talk, we ain't teething twice /
I can’t front little shorty, yo' them beats ain't nice /
it’s like your DJ can only cut pizza slices /
straight poison like something I would feed to mice /
this ain't therapy but take Funk D’s advice /
stop faking to the streets like you eating nice /
you ain't fire, you more like freezing ice /
and that’s stupid, kinda' like teasing Tyson /
when you just small fry like beans and rice /
I’m internationally known because my Visa’s nice /
there’s no beef, straight peace like Jesus Christ /
and I don’t know first aid but I’m breathing life back into Hip-Hop /
to make the feeling right cos' I'm a beast


Chorus //
(scratching) On the microphone / that's the sound of the beast /
([cos'] - I'm a beast) I blaze mics / the physical ability with mental capability


Verse Two //
Funk D, aint no holding me back /
and why these rappers sound dead like they rolling in black? /
Straight sinning, biting apples like they stolen a Mac /
and can’t even come correct, yeah they fold on a track /
and they so past tense that I’m “tolding” them that /
they straight posing, it’s like Hulk Hogan is back /
they probably got ghost-writers who can show em’ to rap /
so don’t recoup off no records cos they owing em’ back /
so we don’t believe you, you aint growing a stack /
so stop talking like you crazy and you blowing some Crack /
you can’t know how to feast if you ain't know how to snack /
you talk guns but you DUCK!!! “yeah you know when to quack!” /
I know it's hard to keep up with me, you owe me a lap /
I don’t know where you're heading player, show me a map /
and as I walk the beat, patrolling the track /
you have the right to remain silent, you totally wack! I'm a beast


Chorus //


Verse Three //
From the record to the press release /
it's well known premature that I bless the beats /
with a sound that is bound to make your stress decrease /
or a beat so banging, leave your chest in pieces /
if your rhymes sound dead, may you rest in peace /
and plus you came to the show like you dressed for Grease /
now you got a new sound, wanna' test the streets /
you might get one spin with suppressed repeats /
it's gonna' take much more to impress the peeps /
and have a record company re-invest at least a little money /
so don’t try test this beast /
you say you cold, well homie I suggest a fleece /
I’m from H.A.C., represent the East /
some in North, some in West, some in South are decent /
some are so old school, some are fairly recent /
I am Funky for so much more than a season, I'm a beast


Chorus //
Track Name: I Stole Your Life "featuring Dyanna Fearon"
Chorus //
So you're living your life, trying to be right /
chasing the game but losing your life /
don't you know that you are special (I know you hear me kid)
special (I know you hear me) /
take your time to grow and be wise /
educate your mind in the right things /
don't you know that you are special, (I know you hear me kid) special


Verse One //
I am that son of gun who gets you thinking bout' life /
while thinking about mics, I'm thinking about my rights /
my right to speak freely, without the influence of fucking TV's,
magazines, the Internet and BB /
I spray it just like graffiti on the walls of hood /
where shorty's is smelling weedy, probably up to no good /
Police cars patrolling for some property that's stolen /
while them Spliffs keep rolling, nigga's burn em' like wood /
Bitches'll turn snitches when a woman is scorned /
the Drug Kings fuck with Bishops and the Bishops the Pawns /
the Pawns are the first to prison, now awaiting release /
with no game plan so probably gonna' return to the streets /
and do it over, the only change is that they getting older /
their heart is getting colder like the weather in October /
nobody can wake early and people ain't trustworthy /
now half of the neighbourhood is acting like they seven-thirty /
it's crazy, is this the place you happen to live? /
Where young kids spit saliva right in front of your crib /
and when you catch em' red handed, try and put em' in place /
and all they got for you’s a cheeky fucking smirk on they face /
and no apology because that ain't the way they were raised /
the only thing that really matters is to smoke and get paid yo' /
sometimes the hood is like the blade of a knife /
it got you feeling like somebody fucking stole your life


Chorus //


Verse Two //
With most of your time spent on merely trying to make the rent /
some crooks'll do your books for only twenty-five percent /
and broke becomes a mind state mirrored in reality /
with pictures of fatalities but never in a gallery /
hand to mouth living from what's hardly called a salary /
but most times it seems just like you live some kind of fallacy /
with people living callously, you'll never be a Majesty /
the world around you feels like it's a fucking travesty /
and friends ain't friends no more /
cos' these bitches don't wanna' come around the ends no more /
take a twenty from you and paying back a ten and no more /
and nobody seeing you wearing fresh denim no more /
and everything remains a secret you ain't telling no more /
you want your Neighbours to be quiet, don’t be yelling no more /
and all them Drug Dealers, you don’t want them selling no more /
don’t wanna' be associated with no felons no more yo' /
not everybody living like this /
and in comparison some people probably living quite bliss /
but this is for my peeps in the hood /
for everyone without a voice and feeling misunderstood /
and cant see a way out so living every day out a glass box /
and waiting for the lottery to pay out /
sometimes the hood is like the blade of a knife /
and got you feeling like somebody fucking stole your life… uh!


Chorus //


Outro //
Brothers killing other brothers /
I thought the idea was to love one another /
switch on the T.V. to one more death /
if they keep this up then who the heck'll be left? /
so I try my best to set an example /
saying hype lyrics over breaks and samples /
but not just to brag or to boast but to inform /
cos' I wanna' see the calm and not the storm (echo)
Track Name: Walk of a Champion "featuring Gods Son"
Intro //
Oh my God / International, how you mean? /
Come tru, come tru, come tru, tell them!


Verse One //
(Yo', check it) Let me introduce myself, my name's DEF /
got the walk of a champ and rep rap like there’s one year left /
I’m so deep in the cut but I’m no Jazz Jeff /
with no regard to the rest like I’m so Grand Theft /
but fuck the violence, we don’t get down like this /
studio magic, that’s why the record sound like this /
(yo turn the music up!)
in the booth, burning the roof and pound my fist /
ain’t having just anybody come around my gift / (yo')
yo' turn the music up and let me start a war in your ear drum /
detonate and ricochet your core like the snare drum /
hold the mic psycho like the soldier who don’t fear none / (yo)
Veteran but with the (yo) kind of hunger found in year one / (yo)
and I don’t dare run, I ain’t afraid of suffering /
it could be that you tough or a bluff and I be that tougher man /
(what the fuck?)
so guard your space somebody might muscle in /
push you in a hole, duck tape and now you muffling /
yo' tie you to a pole and let the world know it's over /
then back into the lab with a casual composure /
I told ya' I’m here for exposure / (what?)
so if you wanna' diss', (check it) I understand you (yo) need closure /
(yeah) I ain't no chaser so forget the Coca-Cola /
I spark with the flame like my energy was solar / (yeah)
and in the studio I be that match point composer / (yeah)
you bound to get check like it’s Navratilova / (yo)
yo' I’m hard, (yeah) street, ghetto, (yeah) rugged /
no I ain't cold blooded but I’ll leave your zone flooded /
I’m Def, one of the best to ever leave a stamp /
and I came in the game with a walk of a champ


Chorus //
Me all a' walk like a champion, talk like a champion /
and I came in the game with the walk of a champ /
me all a' walk like a champion, ram-pa-pa-pam-pam /
and I came in the game with the walk of a champ /
Me all a' walk like a champion, talk like a champion /
and I came in the game (echo) /
me all a' walk like a champion, talk like a champion /
and I came in the game with the walk of a champ /


Verse Two //
(yo') yo' on your mark get set, now watch your set get marked /
state of the art, it's nothing kid I take em’ apart /
with the rhymes that’ll glow in the dark, I flow in the dark /
survival, so when I’m left alone with a Shark /
I shed no blood, I’m taking that beast to Noah’s Ark / (yo')
I’m a champ and I’m so off the hook like question marks / (yeah)
and I’m the type of dude to take it back to the start /
where your mark got set and your set got marked /
yo' I am the Sergeant, the General, potent just like a chemical /
music is so hysterical, make it sound like a miracle /
cut you from the umbilical, I’m starting your life /
and there ain't nothing that can make DL depart from the mic /
I’m like a Sniper, the Hackney Pied Piper /
so turn my mic up, lighters up, I bite like white vipers /
lock it down like Rikers /
I am one of the nicest to ever put down with these electronic devices /
(yo' check it) so Compadre’, you better hit the highway / (yes)
the ink and my paper is my ebony and ivory / (yes)
player, I come first, I’m premier, I’m primary /
all the words in the library ain't enough to describe me / (listen!)
one of a kind, couldn’t clone this style /
these other rappers straight flop like a boneless spine /
and player I can sympathise just like a homeless child /
so when I put my record out, they just postpone they smile /
cos' I’m hard, (yeah) street (yeah) , ghetto, rugged /
no I ain't cold blooded but I’ll leave your zone flooded /
I’m Def (yes), one of the best to ever leave a stamp /
and I came in the game with a walk of a champ


Chorus //
Track Name: All My Peoples
Chorus //
All my rude boys, all my bad boys /
It’s time to get wild, make mad noise /
It’s time to get paid like hustlers /
and say "zugu-zu-zu" just like Busta /
all my Rude-girls, all my ladies /
yo' lets bring the funk back like the 80’s /
forget the if, buts or maybe’s /
we bout' to let loose go crazy


Verse One //
When I came in the game I was savaging /
five album deal at 19 with no management /
(yeah) and the paper was stacking in /
went to Japan, I returned and went back again /
(sayonara!) "konichiwa", I’m back again /
twenty-five percent P.P.D. less packaging /
(yeah) and I’m store displaying in HMV /
(yeah) so between us, I understand the envy (yo)
of these rappers when I made em' worldwide /
turn around now they bitchin’ like a fucking Girl Guide /
(bitch) tryin’a hate but you do it on the sly /
yours weren’t enough? Now you want my prize? /
(yeah) But why (why?) try? (try) /
You so maggot, I’m so fly (fly) /
and for those who missed it /
(yeah) I’m so fly, I’m sticking to this shit


Chorus //


Verse Two //
I’m so free, (I'm so free) I’m so D /
(I'm so D) fuck it, right about now yo' I’m so me /
(so me) I’m so middle finger and I’m so V /
(so V) If I hurt your feelings I’m so sorry /
(apologies) I’m just telling my story /
fuck privacy, we can do this on Maury /
(T.V.) I can’t promise you glory /
but I bet you any money that the audience applaud me /
(I'm so naughty) I know I’m so naughty /
started my record label twenty-one years from forty /
(nineteen) on tour yo' they horde me /
back home this singer said "D can’t afford me" /
(for real?) for real? (you sure?) You sure? /
As time goes on you begging to record /
I ain't about to take my finger off pause /
(yo') you ask "why?" (why?) Because…


Chorus //


Verse Three //
(yo') I’m no flash in the pan /
so I’m not here begging ya’ll with cash in a can /
(no way) solo or backed with a band /
(uh!) I’m so Superhero, Spectacular Man /
(yo') nigga’s biting like Dracula man /
so I only write rhymes on the back of my hand /
(I'm attracting the fans) I’m attracting the fans /
for female autographs, back of the van /
(yo, yeah) got eight bars left /
(uh!) correction I’ma take seven more steps /
(uh!) correction I’ma hit six more lines /
(yeah) I’ma hit one bar five more times /
(four bars) four bars and I’m ghost /
take away one, now three at the most /
(two bars) two bars and I’m done /
that’s it… one


Chorus //