Heartbeat (feat. Redman & Angie Martinez)

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