Producer: DJ Cip One
Intro:
"Who the fuck is Ace Rock?"
Verse 1:
Automatic whip deck
Food for the stiff necks
Alpha demeanor crunk but a flunky on the piss test
Soundtracker Cip One
Hands like vinyl killers that’ll run around
And cut them dubplates down to 7-inches
And I Jukie Ace
Boogie face
First do it from the base of the Six Flags
Def Jux movement
And he Jukie Cip
Boogie mixtape hustle
Push consecutive classic materials for new Jet Jungles
See Bazooka with his arms folded
Fists balled up
Called up Ox to ride the European tour bus
See me in your city where the mics turn blue
For the crew don’t let the fuckin’ stage breathe 'til we through
Insidious dirt funk litterbug in the New York chronicle form phenom slang
Peep the game
Keep the fame
Leap the chains
Or better yet I’ll start this motherfucking revolution
Keep the change
It goes peace to the Atoms
What? Add ‘em up
Crypt, Jest, Wind, Vast, Vor, Cip, Alaska
Eye at his worm chopper
Fingers on the fader
And he’s faded if the fingers made the dutch burn proper
I let 'em crowd the new record the fuck up for the sensors
You don’t know what you forgot, you’ll remember in September
It’s gonna make these little style-biting Fraggles lasso they dentures
Learning innovation mixed with inherent respect for mentors
The antiplane buffing or stuffing throwies down your throat
Can ya feel it? That’s rough rugged raw
Fuck a sealed kiss
Fee fie fo fum smell the dummy tears
I’m ghost, Cip take us the fuck up outta here
Outro:
"We stand in the shadow…is our God." (scratched)
"Who the fuck is Ace Rock?"
Verse 1:
Automatic whip deck
Food for the stiff necks
Alpha demeanor crunk but a flunky on the piss test
Soundtracker Cip One
Hands like vinyl killers that’ll run around
And cut them dubplates down to 7-inches
And I Jukie Ace
Boogie face
First do it from the base of the Six Flags
Def Jux movement
And he Jukie Cip
Boogie mixtape hustle
Push consecutive classic materials for new Jet Jungles
See Bazooka with his arms folded
Fists balled up
Called up Ox to ride the European tour bus
See me in your city where the mics turn blue
For the crew don’t let the fuckin’ stage breathe 'til we through
Insidious dirt funk litterbug in the New York chronicle form phenom slang
Peep the game
Keep the fame
Leap the chains
Or better yet I’ll start this motherfucking revolution
Keep the change
It goes peace to the Atoms
What? Add ‘em up
Crypt, Jest, Wind, Vast, Vor, Cip, Alaska
Eye at his worm chopper
Fingers on the fader
And he’s faded if the fingers made the dutch burn proper
I let 'em crowd the new record the fuck up for the sensors
You don’t know what you forgot, you’ll remember in September
It’s gonna make these little style-biting Fraggles lasso they dentures
Learning innovation mixed with inherent respect for mentors
The antiplane buffing or stuffing throwies down your throat
Can ya feel it? That’s rough rugged raw
Fuck a sealed kiss
Fee fie fo fum smell the dummy tears
I’m ghost, Cip take us the fuck up outta here
Outro:
"We stand in the shadow…is our God." (scratched)
more tracks from the album
From the album