Lyrics Heartbeat - Redman , Angie Martinez , KRS-One
Alright
everybody
move
back
from
the
ropes
If
you
don't
move
back
we're
gonna
turn
this
music
off
And
that's
my
word,
move
back!
Word
is
bond
let's
get
this
shit
goin
Word
up,
it's
the
Funk
Doc
in
the
house
Say
hell
yeah!
HELL
YEAH!
Say
fuck
yeah!
FUCK
YEAH!
Word
up,
it's
the
Funk
Doc
Spock
you
don't
stop
It's
my
man
KRS
you
don't
stop
It's
the
girl
Angie
you
don't
stop
With
the
hah
haha
ha
haha
hah!!
It's
the
Butter
Pecan
Rican
speakin
deletin
Other
radio
jocks
that
think
they
competin
They
pre-sweetened,
like
candy,
I'm
hot
like
pepper
Big
up
to
Sandy
but
my
name
is
Angie
Martinez,
what
a
true
microphone
fiend
is
Steppin
up
lovely
with
MY,
AD-IDAS
Through
your
speakers,
representin
Boriquas,
and
all
hip-hop
rhyme
seekers
You
may
think
I'm
crazy
right,
but
I'm
crazy
hype
Slay
this
nice
y'all,
everytime
Angie
grab
the
mic
I
jams
it
right
tonight,
not
the
hardest
But
peep
the
style
of
this
Puerto
Rican
Goddess
Aiyyo
yo
yo
yo,
stop
the
music!
Aiyyo
back
up
off
the
ropes,
man,
word
up!
Yo
get
from
the
off
the
ropes
Now
aiyyo
yo
yo,
KRS-One,
come
again
the
selector!
It's
been
a
long
time
but
we
made
it,
you
waited
You
gettin
frustrated
cause
these
MC's
in
trainin
Skills
on
the
mic
for
a
royalty
save
it
Pullin
down
rap
so
that
others
can't
make
it
They
can't
fake
it
in
front
of
KRS
they
naked
That
same
old
MC
trend
I'm
here
to
break
it
The
highly
conceptional
multidirectional
Hot
in
ninety-seven
so
I
guess
I'm
flexible
Rap
relieve
stress
so
yes
I
guess
it's
medical
All
your
wrecking
and
raping
is
still
theoretical
Redman,
you
know
you
must
understand
(Whatup?)
Redman,
you
know
you
gots
to
understand
(Hah!
Whatup
love?)
Angie,
rockin
with
the
one
BDP
(Ha,
haha)
Representin
right
now
at
Hit
Factory
One
two
hah,
and
you
don't
quit
It's
Kris
and
Angie
with
the
ultimate
One
two
hah,
and
you
don't
quack
It's
Funk
Doc
smoke
weed
and
don't
smoke
crack
Hahaha,
hah,
and
you
don't
quit
Hoohahhahah,
and
you
don't
quit
I
rock
jams
like,
Samsonites
with
mics
Stage
two
boomin
system
and
flood
the
lights
The
lyrical,
fo'-fo's
lettin
off
like
suppose
Reggie
Reg
is
rockin
on
the
ra-dioooo!
Hahh,
huh,
the
oooh-child
too
chill
Caps
peeled,
Someone
In
My
Bed
like
Dru
Hill
Raise
em
up,
cause
I
feel
my
spot
can't
be
touched
No
time
for
the
Pauline
jack,
hit
the
clutch
Shotgun
what??
It's
the
high
exalted
Ruler
of
the
buddha,
the
cash
make
my
pockets
Stick
out
like
a
tumor,
for
the
consumers
I
get
busy
with
La
Pluma,
detonate
the
bomb
To
make
you
hibernate
sooner,
certified
luna-tic
My
click
run
deeper
than
Charlie
Tuna
Kahunas,
raw
for
the
able
key
movers
All
over
the
hood
like
them
Crooked
I
coolers
Bang
maneuvers,
from
Jerz
to
Vancouver
Back
to
the
Bronx
with
heartbeats
ample
looped
up
I
Blastmast
like
Kris,
funk
abyss
Like
a
phone
chauvenist
with
a
Roley
on
the
wrist
Sike!
I
can
afford
it,
less
I
slaughtered
Three
platinum
niggaz
and
none
of
em
prerecorded
KRS-One
need
to
be
runnin
for
office
So
Butter
Pecan
Rican,
tell
them
to
get
off
his
1 A Friend
2 Can't Stop, Won't Stop
3 Come To Da Party
4 Just to Prove a Point
5 Over Ya Head
6 The MC
7 H.I.P.H.O.P.
8 4th Quarter -- Free Throws
9 Halftime
10 I Got Next/Neva Hadda Gun
11 Blowe
12 Klassicks
13 Heartbeat
14 Step Into a World (Rapture’s Delight) (remix)
15 2nd Quarter - Free Throws
16 1st Quarter - The Commentary
17 3rd Quarter - The Commentary
18 Real Hip-Hop, Part II
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