Now the party didnt start till I walked in And I probably wont leave until the thing ends But in the mean time, the in between time If you work your thing, then I'll work mine We came here together so we could have fun Me and you baby, goin one on one Now this is the last chance for us to get off So either get loose, or you aught to get lost Cause Im just about ready to do my thing Cause Im the stone cold, New York, Rap Machine Im 'a give you what I got, and baby thats plenty You'll never have one that rocks so many Im 'a make you wet and make you sweat Just to see how funky you can get Now when Im on the mic, I do serve well And I go by the name of the Rapper Jalil *Four minutes left* Now sit back, relax, put on your head gear Get ready for a trip through the Atmosphere Gonna take you for a ride through the Twighlight Zone I dont need a space ship, I use my microphone So hold on tight, with all your might Cause Ill be rappin like this for the rest of the night Its Jalil yall, your master rapper And when Im on the mic its a sheer disaster Cause MC's crumble when we rumble Some think Im soft just because Im humble So all you MC's, I hope you're real good listeners Cause in this battle, Im takin no prisoners Im slayin MC's right on the spot Cause Im the the master of the Rap, the doctor of the Rock The Jack of all Trades, The Master of One And the thing Im at, is called havin fun We got three minutes left to rock this funk To separate the good stuff from the junk, so Get in the groove, and feel the sound And once you're inside, spread yourself around From the bottom to the top, the top to the bottom Come on Master Dee, get funky while we got em *three minutes left* Me and my partner, from the start We usually get together, after dark Sometimes to rap, Sometimes to sing In the Summer or the Winter cause it aint no thing And ever since I first came round Side by Side, We'd throw down We came here to this here place To serve you all right to your face Because this jam here is our show stopper We didnt wanna do it but I guess we gotta We're the men of the hour, makin the ladies scream and holler To hot to trot, To sweet to be sour Im gonna set the record straight And I hope that it is not too late If you want the best, I wont settle for less Put your money on me, Im your best bet Come on, One for the treble Two for the Bass Three for the ladies Four for the plaid Five, minutes of funk, this aint no junk So pull your bottom, off the tree stump Ladies real pretty, from city to city But now we're gettin down to the nitty gritty From the bottom to the top, the top to the bottom Im gonna rock em, while I still got em Our rappin shower has style and power And this, is our disco hour I dont know what all of you have heard So its up to me to spread the word About the man that we feel has got to be real Our crowned Prince on the wheels of steel He goes by the name of Grandmaster Dee So if its alright with you, its alright with me We gonna rock you people's minds with ease With some help from the Maestro, if you please *one minute left* *Im sorry, your five minutes are up, please begin your ending, or your volume will be terminated