This is a test of the emergency broadcast system.
Had there been an actual emergency,
your local station in conjunction
with the relevant federal authorities
would have broadcast the following three
recordings in all of them.
In every place there has to be a ruler,
the president, a general, or even a dictator,
the emperor, a king, or a chief of some tribe.
Anywhere in this world, open down side to side.
The Southeast Asia, the Philippines,
on the equator, land of water and greens.
That's a kingdom of words and an army of rhymes.
When the government opposed,
then they canceled a lot.
In this part of the region,
they call me the king.
I'm the genesis of rap.
The microphone brings great pleasure.
I treasure with an echo on top,
with the aid of percussion.
I rap nonstop with brackets aside,
would say I really sound deaf.
Stupid, fresh, and solid with a capital F.
Some think I'm black when I rap attack,
but when I see my colleague, I take in the back.
I sound brown like wood, Filipino by blood.
The Spanish, Mestizo, my English is good.
I can burn MCs anywhere in the world,
anybody,
anytime.
It's heaven you heard, but I'm the king.
I can maim you, lame you whenever I please,
and blow you away in other raps with ease.
Take your pick right now,
get a gun or something.
By the time I go for mine, you'll be down.
So I step on your head,
pull a leg,
call the ugly instead.
I'm glad not sad that you're finally dead,
enough said.
Because I got to get ahead,
too bad the Latin Center make me mad.
Stone cold blooded, a first degree murder.
Plains of defense,
because there ain't no other answer.
Cussing and bitching, ill and not chilling,
not realizing that I was listening.
All of a sudden, the guns are firing,
even for no kind of reason.
Men and women, young and old, citizens,
already got polite for totally irrelevant.
Pressure on my finger as I put it on the trigger,
trigger happy, go lucky, you blew it, it's over.
You know what my mouth is?
The mouth is like a gun.
You know what kind of gun?
It ain't an Uzi or N-gram,
triggers on the maximum,
not a 45 or a 44 Magnum,
and it ain't even a 357,
nor a 12 gauge, but a mouth.
So listen,
if you want to do this,
but I'll do this,
you got to be harsh,
like plaster of Paris.
Pressure on my finger as I put it on the trigger,
trigger happy,
go lucky,
you blew it,
it's over.
Music of the future in the age of the computer,
for a type of history,
you can jot it down,
because there ain't nobody gonna see it later.
Alligator,
I'm a mass ambulant,
on the side of the equator,
body deeper, more than a microphone dominator.
Fresh round, sharp ass, a razor blade.
I'll never be afraid,
if any MC's want to battle me,
they get slayed,
with no first aid,
until I get paid.
You try to evade,
now watch me invade your patented words,
so absurd,
in the school I'm a jot,
while you are called a nerd.
Nerd, haven't you heard?
I'm a kick your ass and make you eat dirt.
Come on,
master of disaster,
cut it up,
right now.