Deadly, when I play a dope melody…..
...too cold.... too cold......
There has been a lot of online discussion of Vanilla Ice’s recent apology “for his music”. Why? I have no idea.
No apology necessary, Ice. You were right all along, you are a lyrical poet when you kick yo juice. Ice Ice Baby (the biggest selling rap song of all time) has always been a very special tune, bro. Forget the fact that you are 41 and confused through constant drug and alcohol abuse. It’s all goo’. Remember the goo’ times. Here he is (and I’m following with all the lyrics. Because they are so awesome):
Yo VIP let’s kick it
Ice ice baby (x2)
All right stop collaborate and listen
Ice is back with my brand new invention
Something grabs a hold of me tightly
Flow like a harpoon daily and nightly
Will it ever stop yo I don’t know
Turn off the lights and I’ll glow
To the extreme I rock a mic like a vandal
Light up a stage and wax a chump like a candle
Dance go rush to the speaker that booms
I’m killing your brain like a poisonous mushroom
Deadly when I play a dope melody
Anything less than the best is a felony
Love it or leave it you better gain weight
You better hit bull’s eye the kid don’t play
If there was a problem yo I’ll solve it
Check out the hook while my DJ revolves it
CHORUS
Ice ice baby vanillla (x4)
Now that the party is jumping
With the bass kicked in and the vegas are pumpin’
Quick to the point to the point no faking
I’m cooking MC’s like a pound of bacon
Burning them if you ain’t quick and nimble
I go crazy when I hear a cymbal
And a hi-hat with a souped up tempo
I’m on a roll and it’s time to go solo
Rollin’ in my 5.0
With my rag-top down so my hair can blow
The girlies on standby waving just to say hi
Did you stop no I just drove by
Kept on pursuing to the next stop
I busted a left and I’m heading to the next block
The block was dead
Yo so I continued to A1A Beachfront Avenue
Girls were hot wearing less than bikinis
Rockman lovers driving Lamborghinis
Jealous ’cause I’m out getting mine
Shay with a guage and Vanilla with a nine
Reading for the chumps on the wall
The chumps acting ill because they’re so full of eight balls
Gunshots rang out like a bell
I grabbed my nine all I heard were shells
Falling on the concrete real fast
Jumped in my car slammed on the gas
Bumpet to bumper the avenue’s packed
I’m trying to get away before the jackers jack
Police on the scene you know what I mean
They passed me up confronted all the dope fiends
If there was a problem yo I’ll solve it
Check out the hook while my DJ revolves it
REPEAT CHORUS
Take heed ’cause I’m a lyrical poet
Miami’s on the scene just in case you didn’t know it
My town that created all the bass sound
Enough to shake and kick holes in the ground
‘Cause my style’s like a chemical spill
Feasible rhymes that you can vision and feel
Conducted and formed
This is a hell of a concept
We make it hype and you want to step with this
Shay plays on the fade slice like a ninja
Cut like a razor blade so fast other DJs say damn
If my rhyme was a drug I’d sell it by the gram
Keep my composure when it’s time to get loose
Magnetized by the mic while I kick my juice
If there was a problem yo I’ll solve it
Check out the hook while Shay revolves it
Ice ice baby vanilla
Ice ice baby (oh-oh) vanilla
Ice ice baby vanilla
Ice ice baby vanilla ice
Yo man let’s get out of here
Word to your mother
Ice ice baby too cold
Ice ice baby too cold too cold (x2)
Ice ice baby
Just awesome. Word to all y’alls mothers.
2 Responses to 'Deadly, when I play a dope melody…..'
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6 Mar 09 at 10:35 am
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In a similar vein, and to celebrate Paddy’s Day, can I offer this seminal work from Boston Punk Rap Legends House of Pain:
TOP OF THE MORNIN’ TO YA
She won’t come, just when you want it
Ya see, I’m Irish, but I’m not a leprechaun
You wanna fight, then step up and we’ll get it on
You gotta right to the grill, I’m white and I ill
A decendant of Dublin with titanic skill
I ducked and I swing, next thing your jaw’s broken
Punk I ain’t jokin’, you can bet you’ll be chokin’
On a fist full a nothin’, meanwhile I’ll be puffin’
On a fat blunt, run punk, you don’t know the half
Tryin’ to talk shit, man, please don’t make me laugh
These Irish eyes are smilin’, I’m buckwildin’
The House Of Pain is pumpin’, start jumpin’
Freak it, funk it, back seat junk it
If you can’t get with it, you’ll wind up sweatin’ it
Then you’ll get a beatin’ just like an egg
It’s so hard to run when you’ve got a broken leg
But we can have a run off, the House Of Pain’ll come off
We got the cake that you’re tryin’ to get a crumb off
The Irish stylee, the Celtic jazz
No one has it, just us that’s it
If you try to take it, I got a big shileighly
I don’t have dreads cause I shave my head daily
You call me a skin head, I call you a pin head
Yo, where you been man, just like the tin man
You got no heart, here comes the good part
I pick ’em, buck ’em, cut ’em up, and buck them down
No fuckin’ around
Home boy ya get clown like Krusty, trust me
You shouldn’t play, and by the way
Top o’ the mornin’ to yaChorus
(What’s the hassle man?) Top o’ the mornin’ to ya (2x)
(Hey, are you givin’ us a hassle man?)Greetin’s, salutations
Peace to the nations of Zulu and Islam
Crack the bottle, rev the throttle
Put the gear in, now you’re stearin’
Like Mario Antretti
So let me kick it, cause I can make a wicked
Noise like a cricket
Rubbin’ his legs, my rhymes are like eggs
I’ll keep layin’ ’em, I’ll keep sayin’ ’em
This is the House Of Pain, we’re far from plain
But we’re not fancy, Ron and Nancy
So just say no, but I say go
Straight to hell, I kiss and tell
So if you’re a ho, all my friends know
What you gotta say, let’s hit the hay
And have no delay, and yo, by the way
Top o’ the mornin’ to yaChorus
Extra extra, read all about it
How could ya doubt it?
Now scream and shout it!
The House Of Pain soon will reign
Over the hip hop scene and like golden green
I rip shit and back flip like a Jedi
I roll with the groove and I’m smooth and you can bet I
Come correct and get respect when I’m flowin’
Collectin my dough, I got you’re girlfriend ho-in’
And how do I know that she’s funk?
I know she’s broke cause yo, the T’s hung like a
Shetland pony, gettin’ paid like Sony
So never ever try to play me out like a phony
Cause I can get real thick like a bull with Mark Toneil
And by the way, top o’ the mornin’ to yaGenius “yo, the T’s hung like a
Shetland pony” – who says romance is dead?Crunchy Lozenge
17 Mar 09 at 8:01 am
Ice has nothing to be ashamed of. It’s a good rhyme which stands up with time.
This, on the other hand is not cool.
Dee Dee should have stayed a Ramone