The Jam Songtext
von MC Zappa

Kick it!

Eternally blessed; I son all rappers wit′ no paternity test
When I'm Smashin′, my mains are neither Kirby or Ness

I'm so sick of the suckers with the poor prose
That I gotta go off like a whore's clothes

You know my sound is heavier than a cinder block
All eyes are on me when I begin to rock

Listen to the bass explode like a bombshell
Somebody′s always watchin′ me 'cuz I rock well

No need to wonder why I′m in the public eye
It's cut and dry; ′cuz I'm funkier than Funka Fize

I′m at the top of the class, and I set the curve
Thinkin' you could step to me? Where did you get the nerve?

MCs can't get a moment of peace, yo
′Cuz they all wonderin′ when the flowin' will cease

Like EPMD, I′m handlin' business
And you know that this, is the jam!


Jam!
Let me hear you say
Jam!
Jam!

I′m so ill, you can never develop a cure
So the rhymes are always dope; you can bet it for sure

Wit' my technique, I wreck weak toys and suckas
And I′m guaranteed to bring both the noise and ruckus

Zen pen; I write rhymes of infinite depth
Try to bite, and you'll be dead before you finish the breath

My rhyme scheme is so sharp, you'll get impaled
Don′t even try to step to me, because ya shit′s stale

I go below the surface like a submarine
You can call me a soul surgeon 'cuz my cuts are clean

The flex is a guillotine; I′m slicin' appendages
Crematin′ wit' rhymes; they say I′m nice with the sentences

I be cookin' MCs like hash browns
So you better back up unless you tryna get smacked down

I'm playin′ sucka MCs out like a baby grand; the ladies′ man
MC Zappa be makin' crazy jams


Jam!
Let me hear you say
Jam!
Jam!

So many suckas′ rhymes are weaker than styrofoam
So I'm strikin′ fear and commandeerin' the microphone

And of course, I slam it hard like a Charizard
And blast toys who think I′m somethin' to play wit'

It′s all a game, and I am the protagonist
Of The Jam; another one of Zappa′s hits

This record just ain't like no other
My flow so smooth, ya can′t believe it ain't butter

Damn; I′m goin' in like I got a curfew
Not a waiter, but if you want beef, I′ll serve you

Bringin' hell like Halloween, but this ain't a trick-or-treat
For me to defeat sucka MCs is a simple feat

Yo, I got more rhymes than Shonda
And damn, it′s just so scandalous

I′m gettin' away wit′ murder on the microphone
I'll strike ya dome wit′ my Bit-Hop beats; this is the jam

Jam!
Let me hear you say
Jam!
Jam!
Jam!

Too Much Phunk, Too Much Phunk, Too Mu
Too Much Phunk, Too Much Phunk, Too Mu
Too Much Phunk, Too Much Phunk, Too Mu
Too Much Phunk, Too Much Phunk, Too Mu
Too Much Phunk, Too Much Phunk, Too Mu
Too Much Phunk, Too Much Phunk, Too Mu
Too Much Phunk, Too Much Phunk, Too Mu
Too Much Phunk, Too Much Phunk, Too Mu