Mr. Voodoo ft. K.A. - “45 Kickin It Live”
[Emcee(s): Mr. Voodoo]
[Producer(s): Charlemagne]
[Hook/Additional Vocals: K.A.]

[Intro: Mr. Voodoo]
Yeah, Mr. Voodoo with my man K.A., about to load this gun. So check it out. Check it out. Check it out. Check it out

[Verse 1: Mr. Voodoo]
Kapow! Another emcee bust like he was pimple pus
I burn down your backyard like I was Uncle Gus
Black, I don’t know how to act
I’ll murder you with the yakety yak, I attack
Coming out the crevices and cracks. If it
Wasn’t for their tracks, a lot of emcees would be wack. I got this
Sewn up. Those that roll up get rolled up like a blunt, then I
Huff and I puff and blow the house up
My Englishness got Teflon tips, but I hate the waist
Clips, so I’ma smack the taste out your lips
The skins be screaming, “Yumping yiminy,” win me
When high, exalted, mystical, it slides down your chimney
The cool jerk originates like Kool Herc and The Herculoids
Heavens to Murgatroyd, I’m slaying wack humanoids
Da! Da! Da! Da! I kick
The vaudeville and bet you that the crowd will applaud still
I’m Angkor Wat. Like Muslims make Salat, the nasty master slot
Quick to pop a shot, wack emcees get herbed a lot
The Eighth Wonder cooler than the tundra, I make bodies
Jolt ‘cause I throw a flow like a lightning bolt, but not
Like Zeus. I’m more like, “Jesús, listen to the
Drums puh-puh!” then I arumpapum-
-pum. I cause more grief for fams than the Son of Sam
And I don’t give a black goddamn!
[Hook: K.A. and Mr. Voodoo] (x2)
My 45’s kicking it live, and that’s no jive!
My 45’s kicking it live, and that’s no jive!
My 45’s kicking it live, and that’s no jive!
Puh-puh! Take a dive if you wanna stay alive!

[Verse 2: Mr. Voodoo]
I make n***as jump
Around with my toolie. I’m well-armed and crazy like
Sam, my firearms do bodily harm, pedestrians
Ride mine like an equestrian, I get biz on any
Topic. Your skills are microscopic. The hyperbolic
Syllabic sess with Dalai mystic, artistic, hard like granite
Like Bam, I make the “Planet Rock,” I slam, dammit
The slightly muscular hustler, rupturer, restructurer
Always blessing you with rhymes that’s combustible
I kick the door right on a titan, dog, so if you’re wack
My diction folds your vision ‘til all you see is black. All
Natural, no additives or preservatives. If
Your rhymes ain’t superlative, then you don’t deserve to live
The dastardly, bastardly. Girls lose their chastity ‘cause
Quick-fast, they be giving up that ass to me
The fly talker makes you feel The Force like Skywalker
Ancient African secret how I freak it
This style is definitive while your style is primitive
I smoke you like mints and end hedges. I’m rough around
The edges, the don with the wand that freaks the leprechaun
I r-r-r-r-r-r-r-eeh-ah like a Decepticon
To reshape your frame like it was clay ‘cause I don’t play. Do fifty
Bullets up your ass make your day? ‘Cause, by the way…
[Hook: K.A. and Mr. Voodoo] (x2)
My 45’s kicking it live, and that’s no jive!
My 45’s kicking it live, and that’s no jive!
My 45’s kicking it live, and that’s no jive!
Puh-puh! Take a dive if you wanna stay alive!

[Verse 3: Mr. Voodoo]
Run, run, run. Here I come, diddy dum. I keep my
Gat concealed ‘cause I don’t have a permit for the gun
I’m looking for the punk that think that he can fuck around
So I can empty rounds in your batty boy sound
N***as pack the gat and then scram, can’t
Do me a damn ‘cause I know who I am
Fantastic, gigantic, dogmatic. Things get drastic
When I let off the boombastic at the static
A tisket, a tasket. When the gat clicks, rats get
Put in their casket with their brains all splattered
‘Cause I plug slugs in thugs and unclogs the Glock
And what I rock got you locked to my jock
Yo (What?!?), if only you knew what I
Know. When Mr. Voodoo come to release, I
Flow, it go puh-puh-puh all over the track, I got
Cuckoo caps for that poopoo crack
When I pack steel, caps peel. I got 1-8-7
Skills, so, ‘til a beat killed for real
The Brooklyn gunner. When I bust shots, watch
Your bumboclaat crew decrease in number. Whoever
Meddles, I got the mettle to settle the score, and I’ma
Give your stupid ass, I’ma give your stupid ass, I’ma
Give your stupid ass what you’re asking for, what
You’re asking for, what you’re asking for
Two to the temple quite simple. I’m quite
Nimble, I’m gonna give your forehead a dimple ‘cause…
[Hook: K.A. and Mr. Voodoo] (x2)
My 45’s kicking it live, and that’s no jive!
My 45’s kicking it live, and that’s no jive!
My 45’s kicking it live, and that’s no jive!
Puh-puh! Take a dive if you wanna stay alive!

[Outro: Mr. Voodoo]
Yeah!