*quality

How does a bastard, orphan, son of a whore
And a Scotsman, dropped in the middle of a forgotten spot
In the Caribbean by Providence, impoverished, in squalor
Grow up to be a hero and a scholar?
The ten-dollar Founding Father without a father
Got a lot farther
By workin' a lot harder
By bein' a lot smarter
By bein' a self-starter
By fourteen they had placed him in charge of the trade and charter
And every day while slaves were being slaughtered
And carted away across the waves
Our Hamilton kept his guard up
Inside he was longing for something to be a part of
The brother was ready to beg steal borrow or barter
Then a hurricane came and
Devastation reigned and
Our man saw his future drip drippin' down the drain
Put a pencil to his temple
Connected it to his brain
And he wrote his first refrain
A testament to his pain
When the word got around, they said, "This kid is insane, man!"
Took up a collection just to send him to the mainland
Getcha education, don't forget from whence you came
And the world is gonna know your name!
What's your name, man?

Alexander Hamilton, his name is Alexander Hamilton
And there's a million things he hasn't done
But just you wait, just you wait

When he was 10, his father split
Full of it, debt-ridden
Two years later, see Alex and his mother, bed-ridden
Half-dead, sittin' in their own sick, the scent thick
And Alex got better but his mother went quick
Moved in with a cousin, the cousin committed suicide
Left him with nothin' but ruined pride
Somethin' new inside
A voice saying Alex, you gotta fend for yourself
He started retreatin' and readin' every treatise on the shelf
There would've been nothin' left to do
For someone less astute
He would've been dead or destitute
Without a cent of restitution
Started workin', clerkin' for his late mother's landlord
Tradin' sugar cane and rum and other things he can't afford
Scannin' for every book he can get his hands on
Plannin' for the future, see him now as he stands on
The bow of a ship headed for a new land
In New York you can be a new man
The ship is in the harbor now
See if you can spot him
Another immigrant comin' up from the bottom
His enemies destroyed his rep, America forgot him
And me? I'm the damn fool that shot him

Alexander Hamilton
We were waiting in the weeds for you
You could never back down
You always had to speak your mind
But Alexander Hamilton, we could never take your deeds from you
In our cowardice and our shame
We will try to destroy your name
The world will never be the same, Alexander!

Yeah, I'm the damn genius that shot him

Michael Jackson ain't got nothin' on this guy's moonwalk.

Ain't nothin' wrong with that!~

My dick cost a late night fee
Your dick got the HIV
My dick plays on the double feature screen
Your dick went straight to DVD

My dick - bigger than a bridge
Your dick look like a little kid's
My dick - large like the Chargers, the whole team
Your shit look like you fourteen

My dick - locked in a cage, right
Your dick suffer from stage fright
My dick - so hot, it's stolen
Your dick look like Gary Coleman

My dick - pink and big
Your dick stinks like shit
My dick got a Caesar do,
Your dick needs a tweezer, dude

My dick is like super size
Your dick look like two fries
My dick - more mass than the Earth
Your dick - half staff, it needs work

My dick - been there done that
Your dick sits there with dunce cap
My dick - V.I.P.
Your shit needs I.D.

It's time that we let the world know
Dude, you gotta let your girl go
D.S. is the best in the business
P.S. we got dicks like Jesus

It's time that we let the world know
Dude, you gotta let your girl go
D.S. is the best in the business
P.S. we got dicks like Jesus

My dick need no introduction
Your dick don't even function
My dick served a whole lunch -in
Your dick - it look like a munchkin

My dick - size of a pumpkin
Your dick look like Macaulay Culkin
My dick - good good lovin'
Your dick - good for nothin'

My dick bench pressed 350
Your dick couldn't shoplift at Thrifty
My dick - pretty damn skippy
Your dick - hungry as a hippie

My dick don't fit down the chimney
Your dick is like a kid from the Philippines
My dick is like an M16
Your dick - broken vending machine

My dick parts the seas
Your dick farts and queefs
My dick - rumble in the jungle
Your dick got touched by your uncle

My dick goes to yoga
Your dick - fruit roll -up
My dick - grade -A beef
Your dick - Mayday geek

My dick - sick and dangerous
Your dick - quick and painless
My dick - 'nuff said.
Your dick loves Fred

It's time that we let the world know
Dude, you gotta let your girl go
D.S. is the best in the business
P.S. we got dicks like Jesus

It's time that we let the world know
Dude, you gotta let your girl go
D.S. is the best in the business
P.S. we got dicks like Jesus

...this is one of the most boring interviews i've ever seen..

And I'm the sorta person who watches hours long lectures about politics, science & social issues for fun..

Nothin' like posh, straight-laced, long-winded, anecdotes about how mildly vexing it is when people mispronounce your ridiculously "quirky" Welsh name, ad nauseam. T_T

Longest three minutes EVAR.
Must be a CIA agent testing new torture techniques.. @_@

"I ain't running from nothin'. I never have in my whole life and I ain't gonna start now."

I remember that sentiment from... gradeschool.

What a misplaced principle.

Your video, Nothin' like getting a tongue bath from a good friend..., has made it into the Top 15 New Videos listing. Congratulations on your achievement. For your contribution you have been awarded 1 Power Point.

No man, that body armour, those boots...I'd harvest the bones of a thousand murdered infants to build our bed if that's what it took. Do you think that's what she wants?

I had to go rewatch this. It's practically perfect. Not an origin story, no romance subplot, no compromise. Just a day in the life of Judge Dredd. Love it, but my favourite Dredd story was told in rhyme:

They'd been waiting there since nightfall for the Sharks to come along,
They knew they'd have to pass this stretch of street.
So they'd sharpened up their stickers and they'd brought along their bars,
And they were wearing steel-tipped stompers on their feet.

There was Big Frank Zit and Faceache, Crazy Joseph with his spear,
The Dixon Boys were there and Billy Rat.
Ike the Spike had brought his sister with her homemade ghetto blaster,
And the Ghoul had put new rivets in his bat.

Now it wasn't nothin' personal that they had against the Sharks,
Any bunch of dead-end spugs would do.
'Cos there was nothing they liked better than to mash and bash and stomp,
Same as any normal Mega-City juves.

"A-rumbling! A-rumbling! We love to go A-rumbling!
("AAAH!")
We love to lay in ambush in the night!
("AAAA!")
A-rumbling! A-rumbling! The Zits were born for rumbling!
(SMAK!)
There's nothing we like better than a fight!"
(KRAK!)

Then a headlight pierced the darkness - a rider gaunt and grim,
Daystick drawn and ready in his hand.
     The chin belonged to Dredd,
     And the voice as well, which said:
"You creeps can do your rumbling in the can!"

"It's just one judge!" cried Cindy Spike and opened with her blaster -
"I'll send him back to Central in a sack!"
(SPOING! "AAAAAAA!")
But Dredd's bike absorbed the blast and laid her on the street,
With tyre marks running right across her back.

Then the judge got down to business and his daystick rose and fell,
Striking out at every head he saw.
For though the Zits launched the attack, the Sharks were fighting back -
And self defence is no defence in law!

As the heap of bodies mounted, Big Zit could see his Waterloo,
Waiting just one station down the line.
Oh, sure, he loved to rumble - but he preferred to be on top...
"Let's scram and live to fight another time!"

("Dredd to Control! We got forty-plus juve rumblers fleeing east through Bernstein. Zits and Sharks, back-up required."
"Wilco, Dredd!"
"Med squads and meat wagons to Moreng Alley. Estimate twenty casualties, more to follow."
"Control to all units area Bernstein. YPs on the run."
VRMMMM!
"Pick 'em up!")

In the space of sixty seconds there was a judge on every street.
From watching bays others scanned the slab -
"We got two Zits runnin' fast though the Tamblin Underpass!"
"Krupke here! I got 'em in the bag!"
(THUNK! THUNK!)

They cut them off at Sondheim and they mopped them up on Wood,
On Pedway 12 they corned Crazy Joseph.
He tried to make a stand - but a spear's not worth a damn,
When it's up against a judge's high explosive.

The Ghoul surrendered quietly, he didn't have much choice -
Ike the Spike tried to scale the sector wall -
("Save your bullet, he'll never make it." "Oh no! AAAAAAAAAAAAH!" SPLATT!)
The Dixon Boys all copped it when they tried to hitch a ride,
On the 2020 Zoom to Bernstein Halt.

Big Zit thought he'd play it clever, the law was everywhere,
The safest thing for him to do was hide -
Dredd tracked him down on infrared - "Don't bother to come out!"
"The best place for trash like you is inside!"

In minutes flat they'd caught them, every Shark and every Zit.
To Dredd it fell to ladle out the years -
"Twenty years apiece for Cindy Spike, Billy Rat and Ghoul."
An extra ten left Big Frank Zit in tears.

For Faceache minus half his face, for the hapless Dixon Boys,
For Ike impaled so cruelly on his spike,
For Crazy Joe with his gaping hole, there'd be one final rumble,
Along the last conveyor belt at Resyk.

A-rumbling! A-rumbling! They loved to go A-rumbling!
But the Zits will go A-rumbling no more!
A-rumbling! A-rumbling! They loved to go A-rumbling!
But they should've known they couldn't buck the law!

I like the horns and larger band, but overall... they've got nothin' on Rodrigo y Gabriela, as far as I'm concerned anyway. Bit too camp for me, whereas RyG are straight-up badass mix of flamenco/mariachi and metal.

Nothin' easy about puttin' out a jet fuel fire it seems. *promote

Nothin' but love for you AC, Congrats!!

*related=http://videosift.com/video/No-Sleep-Til-Brooklyn-Beastie-Boys-1986

I love this tune - I know it by heart - or at least know by heart how I though the lyrics went when I listened to it as a kid.



Bedtime boys!
Oh mom!

Now hey there people, won't you lend an ear?
'cause I've a story to tell and I'm telling it here
I was born in a town in the great UK
From a baby to a boy to a man today
And I'm a musical man, and I'm a man of verse
But I've got a little problem and it's getting worse

Well my life was so well planned
Survivin' and a-jivin' in a f-f-funk band
'cause rappin', it's my, bread and butter
But it's hard to rap when you're born with a st-st-st, st, st-st, st,
st-t, st-t, stutter!

Well no-one's ever seen what I mean
From the age of n-n-n-n-n-n-thirteen
We've all been caught in a m-m-mouth trap
So join with us and do the st-st-st-st-st-st-st-stutter rap

Well it was '82 when I joined the boys
And I was hip, and I was cool, but now I've lost my poise
The kids, our fans, are starting to doubt
When you open your mouth and nothing comes out
(..)

And it breaks my heart that we're not on the chart
'cause the record's nearly over when the vocals start
And I'm down and out, and I'm down on my luck
And I'm livin' on my own and I'm dying for a fr-riend to say "You're great!" But I'm under the hammer
'cause all I seem to do is s-s-s-stee-
(..)
Come on man!
(..)
s-s-s-st-stammer!

Well no-one's ever seen what I mean
From the age of n-n-n-n-n-n-thirteen
We've all been caught in a m-m-mouth trap
So join with us and do the st-st-st-st-st-st-st-stutter rap

Neighbours..

Well interviewers turn away
Who wants to be covered with spray?
Talkin' to me for more than an hour
Is equivalent to an April shower
It's tough! Tough! Tougher than tough!
It's worse than Benny Hill and that's bad enough!
Something must be wrong with your vocal technique
When the twelve inch mix goes on for a week

I was rappin' in my club the other night
When nothin' I said was comin' out right
The crowd got angry, and this one man
He was gonna throw a bottle
He was gonna chuck a can, chuck a can, chuck a, chuck a, chuck a,
chuck a

Well no-one's ever seen what I mean
From the age of n-n-n-n-n-n-thirteen
We've all been caught in a m-m-mouth trap
So join with us and do the st-st-st-st-st-st-st-stutter rap

N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-NO, NEED, FOR SHOUTING!

W-w-w-w-why's that then?

Well, you'll wake Mr Whittaker at number thirty-two

Besides, it's not very good for the voice

(An amplifier or similar shorts out)

Uuhhh!

That's a bit harsh isn't it?

NO, SLEEP, 'TIL BEDTIME!

Talking of which - it's ten-thirty already!

Is it? Ooooh!

What time do they stay up 'til in America?

(I mean)

Oh, very late. Sometimes quarter to eleven

(Ahhhh)

Well actually I've heard in New York they sometimes even stay up 'til midnight

No! No wonder they do all that shouting

(I mean)

Yes, they must be very snappy and irritable

That's right

(Ahhhh)

Do you know, I heard a story that those Toastie Boys stayed up 'til
quarter past twelve!

Really? Well that's just silly!

They're just gonna get burnt out

Burnt out!

Well no-one's ever seen what I mean
From the age of n-n-n-n-n-n-thirteen
We've all been caught in a m-m-mouth trap
So join with us and do the st-st-st-st-st-st-st-stutter rap

Well no-one's ever seen what I mean
From the age of n-n-n-n-n-n-thirteen
We've all been caught in a m-m-mouth trap
So join with us and do the st-st-st-st-st-st-st-stutter rap

Well no-one's ever seen what I mean
From the age of n-n-n-n-n-n-thirteen...

(Fades out)

Who's talking?! I CAN'T SEE NOTHIN'!

Congrats on the Gold star and i just spent some time enjoying your prog rock playlist. Nothin like some good old prog rock.

Happy Holidays

Now I rock the houseparty at the drop of a hat
And I can beat a biter down with aluminum bat
A lot of people they be jonesin cause they hear me rock the mic
They be starin at their radios
Stayin up all night
So, like pimp, I'm pimpin
Got a boat to eat shimp in
Ain't nothin wrong with my leg I'm just B-Boy limpin
I got arrested at the Mardi Gras for jumpin on the float
My man, MCA's got a beard like a billy goat
Ooha Oooha! It's a disco call!
MCA, uh huh! Get a rope, ya'll

The routines that I bust
And the rhymes that I write
And I'll be bustin routines and rhymes all night
Like eatin burgers and chicken and you'll be pickin your nose
And I'm on time, homie, that's how it goes
You heard my style, I think you missed the point...

It's the JOINT