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Tuesday, 17 October 2017
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Listen Patrick Stewart & Ian McKellen on Broadway, Bowler Hats and Beckett


Made In England (Ian Anderson)

Somewhere in a town in England
lay a babe with a curious smile.
He was of your father's children.
Born each side of a dry-stone mile.
He grew up through the schools and factories,
Brunel's tunnels and bridges bold.
Grey towers built high on that Kingdom
with apartments still unsold.
Somewhere in a town in England.
Could be Newcastle, Leeds or Birmingham.
And were you made in
England's green and pleasant land.
He accepts no unemployment
and is to indeterminate station bred.
Is possessed of skills and reason
Flies the flag upon his head.
Watches the democratic process
grind it's way through the Commons cold
Filled with fiery infiltrators
who would pave the streets with England's gold.

Fighting 69th (Traditional) (Dropkick Murphys)

Come all you gallant heroes,
And along with me combined
I'll sing a song, it won't take long,
Of the Fighting Sixty Ninth
They're a band of men brave, stout and bold,
From Ireland they came
And they have a leader to the fold,
And Cocoran was his name

It was in the month of April,
When the boys they sailed away
And they made a sight so glorious,
As they marched along Broadway
They marched right down Broadway, me boys,
Until they reached the shore
And from there they went to Washington,
And straight unto the war

So we gave them a hearty cheer, me boys,
It was greeted with a smile
Singing here's to the boys who feared no noise,
We're the Fighting Sixty Ninth

And when the war is said and done,
May heaven spare our lives
For its only then we can return,
To our loved ones and our wives
We'll take them in our arms, me boys,
For a long night and a day
And we'll hope that war will come no more,
To sweet America


So farewell unto you dear New York,
Will I e'er see you once more
For it fills my heart with sorrow,
To leave your sylvan shore
But the country now it is calling us,
And we must hasten fore
So here's to the stars and stripes, me boys,
And to Ireland's lovely shore

And here's to Murphy and Devine,
Of honour and renown
Who did escort our heroes,
Unto the battle ground
And said unto our colonel,
We must fight hand to hand
Until we plant the stars and stripes,
Way down in Dixieland


I'm Really Excited About The Upcoming David Buskin Concert (Anal Cunt)







Brand (Beenie Man)

A bet yuh never see mi inna mi Mecca
Nor Shabazz Bredda, nor mi Karl Kani sneaker
Yuh never see mi inna mi Ruff
But Yuh see mi Hilfiger, An mi Versace blazer


Verse 1:
Material rise Italian the whole world dem conquer
Fi Jean Paul Gottiere yuh haffi have nuff paper
A 89 US fi a Mecca
Black man, full time wi all start support wi black bredda
Maurice Malone, Ruff Jeans, Karl Kani last forever
Gal yuh have the face an yuh shape like mi bimmer
Nuh mek nuh bwoy gi yuh no Hilfiger
What a calamity
Di whole a wi a wear Versace
A wear Moschino, dem two guy dey funny
Although mi wear it to but be careful wid yuh money
See Karl Kani dey guh buy it


Verse 2:
Some bwoy get up say dem a di best
When yuh check out dem brand dem only dress up inna Guess
Inna dem shirt an dem vest,
Dem a guh mix up inna mess
Over Fort Clarence
Mi see Frisco Kid ponal leave him pon di bench
Dem love di Franco, Di one dey name Moschino
A AIDS lick him dung over Colorado
Di one name Versace, mi nuh know him full story
All mi know di media print up, dem a tell mi sa him funny
Di one whey name Hilfiger, say him nuh like no nigger
But who di hell him think him is,
Black man nuh like him either


Verse 3:
All dem a talk yuh know mi naw beg nuh fren
Yuh shoulda see mi an di girl dey
Whey she name ? Donna Karen
A drive down Broadway mi an har two children
Den mi buck up Gottiere him an im funny fren dem
D & G like Guiness and beer
Now yuh hear say a big brand mi wear
Mi nuh care

Dem haffi see mi inna mi Mecca
Or Shabazz Bredda, or mi Karl Kani sneaker
Dem haffi see mi inna mi Ruff
Naw guh see nuh Hilfiger, nor nuh Versace blazer


Repeat from top

Debbie (Sugarcult)

Debbie was a ** yesterday
Woe, oh, oh, ay, ay
Fighting all the way her mother's hair to gray
And the clock strikes S-E-X with the girlfriend next
We can watch from our window like a sick insect
I get chills through my spine when I see her in over time
Debbie went to Broadway yesterday
Woe, oh, oh, ay, ay
Twisting every boy toys neck all day
Like a pinprick right through the heart they have no chance
Like a freak in a brothel wanting cheap romance
She wore black round the eyes just to scare all the normal guys
Debbie's changing faces everyday until she noticed me
With an infectious kiss of jealousy
She's making eyes at me
Debbie was a ** yesterday
Woe, oh, oh, ay, ay
Changing with the times this phase won't stay
And the clock strikes Y-E-S with complete distress
Phoney Lovely now cause she's my sick princess
I can tell she's the one
I never thought depression so much fun
Debbie's changing faces everyday until she noticed me
With an infectious kiss of jealousy
She's making eyes at me
Debbie was a ** yesterday
Woe, oh, oh, ay, ay
Fighting all the way her mother's hair to gray
And the clock strikes S-E-X with the girlfriend next
We can watch from our window like a sick insect
I get chills through my spine when I see her in over time
Debbie's changing faces everyday until she noticed me
With an infectious kiss of jealousy
She's making eyes at me
Debbie's changing faces everyday until she noticed me
With an infectious kiss of jealousy
She's making eyes at me

Carbon Copy (I Can't Stop) (Rahzel)

[Chorus:] X 4
I can't stop
I really don't care about those other carbon copies
Don't stop Bobby don't stop

[Verse 1]
Yo I'm the microphone champi on
Any stage you get me on or let me on
My ambi once is one step beyond
Then my song is a correspond with the audi once
Experi once the Renaiss once my reson once is really on
Wonder Twin powers activate
Put the tape on I can take on any shape, form
Size or weight, shape of Activation Voltron
Imagine all the microphones in the world I spit it on
Imagine the next MC step to me gettin' shitted on
You can even ask the girl about the bed we did it on
I hit it from the back to Marvin**e's Let's Get it On
Don't get it wrong, give it a thong, she put it on, in uniform
Sippin Don Periogne, Shawn Don, fillet mignon
Long horns stick and move until the cameras come on
Until the cameras are gone from there on, dusk till dawn
Get your grind on, now put your panties back on
Thank you for your cooperation
Rahzel, on your Hot 97 station

[Chorus] X 2

(Baby crying)

Oh what's wrong Rahzel?
You're trying to sing?
Don't worry baby, when you grow up you're gonna be a star!

[Verse 2]
Yo, I'm one of the illest vocalists to ever turn the mic on
Let me download my sound, catalog the microns
(Computer noises) Turn your website on
WWW dot transmission d-d-d-d-d-dot sitcom
Got your girl buck ** on the cover, right on
3-d visually enhanced on your cd-rom
EP-rom, erasable, programmable and only
Memory accesible when you're pc's on
We can battle for your soul like Ki Yong Song
We can battle for your girl like Rae Dawn Chong
Yo you're mother's so fat she wears a three piece thong
Made of polyester-cryllic, rip stop nylon
With a skully cap that stretches three feet long
98 degrees outside, with a sheepskin on
I play you and your mom like Donkey Kong
Check this out

(Videogame noises)

[Chorus] X 4

[Verse 3]
Yo we got the hottest, wildest fiber optic
Double O 7 James Bond, talkin in your watch shit
Watch this, Baywatch shit
Topless, there's no way you could stop this, spotless
Keep the flame up in the cockpit
(?) on some New Kids on the Block shit
My worse man is nothin' but profit
While you keep secrets and gossip
The Officer, the Gentleman
Chiseled out, President, call me Lou Gosset
This is for the players who pop shit
Frontin like you got shit
PHD, without the doctrate
If it wasn't for break beats, you'd be rhymin over my shit
Often transformin on stage, the Super DJ
2000 beats per minute, with an arcade
Round 1 fight, Street Fighter 3, pro tours with an upgrade
Call the paramedics to fed-ex some first aid
My cahlistenics been magnetic since first grade
We can battle in the doorway or the hallway
We can take the shit to the street, off and on Broadway
We can battle where you buy your cheap**clothes in front of
We can battle in the passenger seat of your mother**in Hyundai

[Chorus] X 4

[Chorus2 with variations til fade:]
Doo doo doodoo doooo
Doo doo doodoo doooo
Keep it movin'
We're movin' on
It's time to get down

Rahzel, Roots crew, what, yeah
Uh huh, break it down what, Ice diggy
Hollis crew, Irv Gotti, what

Speak Ya Clout (GangStarr)

[Featuring Jeru The Damaja Lil Dap]
Verse One: Jeru the Damaja
Last year record companies were chumpin me
But now like chicks they all be up on me
and me so horny I hit em like a groupie
Snatch off my hat wash my dick and keep it movin
Showing and proving on a day to day basis
I rip New York and a million different places
State to state country to country
My skills are legend in the style of poetry
I've paid my dues to this game word to mother
Peace New York hops it gets no rougher
Baby brother been puffing buddha and blunts since eighty-five
Before the fake mother**ers started perpetrating live, I've
achieved mad props though niggaz roll around in jeeps
I ride the A-Train and get mad beeps
So when we bang bang boogie out jumps my boot knocks
Chicks comes in flocks when D.R.S. rocks glocks
And I mean it it's all done with the mind
I neutralize suckers because I'm alkaline
I could go on for days speaking bout my clout
So Lil Dap snatch the mic and show the mother**er out
Verse Two: Lil Dap
Yo you can't hide from jail and you can't hide from the street
Flavors do get deep when you're walking the east
A unit down from the underground made the brothers unite
I'm slappin pounds and pounds with real niggaz aight
Ain't nothing changed but the weather, rain storms or whatever
You poured a forty on the ground for the brothers who ain't around
Break it down with the flow as I walk through the ghetto
A nigga said he couldn't do it til the shit hits the fan
Last year I was The Man ripping up every jam
So what's your hobby nothing serious when things get rough
I'm stepping rugged and tough, and bitches won't get enough
A Lil Dap what's that? ** around you get slapped
Schizophrenic with rhyme plus we're well organized
Make the chicks say 'aow' and the brothers say 'ho'
You can't tell a mother**er what to do with his life
Niggaz tend to live trife, so I react with the mic
It's the end of the time so I got to gets mine
Aiyyo 'ru, what's your function meet me at Broadway junction
Before I start to get in it, better yet i just kick it
Aiyyo son, if you're ready Guru starts to flip it
Verse Three: Guru
Earl, with my three-eight-five shot I bust a bumba claat
He talks dumb a lot so him shall drop
I got the clout, all you pussy rappers be out
From the ghetto I let go, shit to make you petrol
Watching fly niggaz show you how to rhyme asshole
You know the mother** situation
So get down get down with the Gangstarr Foundation
Now I'ma touch on reality, chumps can't ** with me
and all the honies be loving me
My style be kicking crazy butt
Wannabes on their knees licking crazy butt
Your girl pays me but ain't no need to try and stop her
I'm Big Poppa ** your girl and I'll drop her
cause she be working on my nerves
and yo I got more gang than the bitch got curves
I'm like gambino, the slick head honcho
Ill kid ready to wreck mics pronto
and I know, I break your back with my rap like smack
because I'm all that
And so the next time when you're wishing for my downfall
I'm a come back to drown y'all
With stupid lyrics relative to a bloodbath
And stay the ** out my path...

Champion Requiem (Mos Def)

[Mos Def]
Bismillah ir Rhman ir Raheem
Peace, peace whats up y'all this is Mos Def
And this is a message to the people
If you see or hear goodness from me
Then that goodness is from The Creator
You should be thankful to The Creator for all of that
'Cause I'm not the architect of that
I'm only the...the recipient
If you see weakness or shortcoming in me
It's from my own weakness or shortcoming
And I ask The Creator and the people to forgive me for that
Thank you Brooklyn, Thank you World
Yeah, yeah there it is
Turn my voice up in the top a little bit
It feel good to be back
Whats up ochenta?
Yeah, yeah, ha..
It's the Black Dante in your headphones
Speakerbox (freaky radio) freaky radio
(Everywhere on the dial) tell you a little bit about me
For my hometown, break down a little history for you
Myrtle and Broadway, Roosvelt projects, Mossie projects

[Verse 1: Mos Def]
I stepped on the field from no league just home team
I Jumped out the stands and I snatched the rock
With the final seconds +one to land+ on the clock
Mos post up to throw up the tie-breakin shot
I put it through the net and let the world's jaw drop
Then fled the arena before they called cops
Tell the players and the coach I wasn't tryin to blow spot
But the way they was ballin' made it difficult to watch
I was taught when there's somethin' you can change around
Keep quiet, you got nothin' to complain about
You got work to do, I don't know if that work for you
But thats how Mos work it through
And my work is personal, I'm a workin person
I put in work, I work with purpose
I get it there, on the water, air, the surface
You feel the impact? Niggaz yeah it's workin
Listen God did not make me a fearful person
The only fear I have, Is my failure to adhear his path
I would love it just to hear this back
On the ghetto streets where y'all at
On the ave's where the Jeep's go past
In the coupes where the seats go back
In the parties where it be so packed
And the atmosphere be so black
And them black things be so phat
If I could I would be so glad
But if not I won't be so mad
I'm still being a man, still feeding my fam'
And even if you don't see it my fam
I believe that I am, truly gifted, truly blessed
I'm yours truly, Brooklyn's own, Mos Def
I'm rockin the hard right, ground zero, to far left
I'm, well balanced, with immense talents
Burn the script, then flip it to keep myself challanged
And thats the mark of a true champ-ine
Thats whether I'm in or outside the ring
No fights, no tilte, no crown or reign
Feel my presence even when I'm up out this thing
Just trust, thats what I'm about to be
But until then settle in and rock with me

[Outro: Mos Def]
Ha, thats what its about to be
Ghetto people look alive with me
And say, We 'gon, stop by
Then we just keep movin on
Ghetto people, look alive and
Feel free, we just keep movin on
For Alliah, Left Eye, Jam Master Jay
All the great hero's who have passed away
Scott Laraque, Big & Pac, Feaky Tai, Big L
All the soldiers locked down in the cell
Lock up the flesh, but the spirit will prevail
To our loved ones, and deceased
Dyin in the street, or quiet in their sleep (B.I.G.)
Rest in peace, your livin in the mansions of our memory(+Sans Marie+)
Rest in peace, your livin in the mansions of our memory
And thats real
'Cause everythin in life 'gon come to an end
Because it must, and when it does
I hope that y'all remember me
With true respect
And ghetto love
Now raise it up
'Cause everythin in life 'gon come to an end
Because it must, and when it does
I hope that y'all remember me
Black Dante, from Myrtle and Broadway
Yeah, yeah y'all
Let me hear it back(echo)
Freaky radio (freaky radio) ha..
Freaky radio (freaky radio) everywhere on the dial

They Down With Us (Scarface Featuring U.G.K)

Yo Pop .... Let's jump in the fight game boy

[Scarface] [Chrous]
My nigga Bun B you know he down wit us
Short Dog and Doc down wit us
Eric B and Pimp C you kwow they down wit us
Black Rob and Eightball ...down wit us
M.J.G. you know he down wit us
B-Legit and E-Feezie down wit us
My nigga Young Ke Ke he down wit us
South Side nigga and we down tah bust I'm #1

Too many niggaz takin' rap for a joke
You be up for one minute and then the next you're flat broke
Rhyme about fly bitches - Daytona - Hardheaded Spokes
Pockets once was phat but now your bummin' smokes
And now your gung ho got'cha niggaz by your side
And the topic of your every conversation's let's ride
But let's take 5 and then put that shit aside
But you know as well as I know
That you don't wanna die
I give's ah ** about your crew
What they wanna do
Them niggaz quick tah cock they straps
We cock straps too
And we blast on fools...** you over
We smoke niggaz too..like Black Rob do
We striaght criminals..** an interveiw
J-Prince will ethnic cleanse like Hitler used to do
Bring on an interlude
I'm comin' from a school where if ah nigga mouth
Get out-We aim tah hit at you
Method subliminal-I'm The Original
That bullshit I heard on your disc was pitiful
I'm critical-nigga I ride around and housin'
My records doin' millions you barely clock a hundred Thousand
I clock more dough plus do more shows
You brag on tight flows but you can't go gold
You sold your soul and bullshit sound low
**in' wit me is not so need nine mo'

[Bun B]
Now the internet,radio,prison even the t.v.
All askin' me tah spit the meaning of B-U-N-B
Well let's see I'm broader than Broadway
Rollin' Brahma's on Broadway
Got your brawd out on Broadway
Tah Broadway in ah broad day
Now I brought the underground plunger
Sound from down under
Somethin' like when that thunder pound
Way from round yunder
Hey I'm from the South mane
Plus I'm the south main fanatical film broker
Than Carol on South Main
Close your mouth mane
I ain't ask tah see your tonsil's or your tounge
Lookin' sprung like The Prince was for Repunzil
I gets twisted like a pretzel these rappers cryin' the blues
Cuz I make this shit look crazier than tyin' my shoes
People ask me do I write rhymes
I tell 'em I used to
Shit now I'm writin' history you gonna remember
Like The Juice Crew
U to the G to the K-P-A Playa
Miss me bout that U-ing nigga next up is J-R

[Pimp C] [Chorus]
Unnh tell yah Lil' J is down wit us
The boy Big Chief is down wit us
The nigga California is down wit us
You know the boy Brad is down wit us
The boy Big Mike still down wit us
Come in die candy sippin' the Tusk
Niggaz in the southside down wit us
Fifth Ward-down tah ride down wit us

[Pimp C]
Nore and Ross breakin' 'em off
Cuz when they think they winnin' **ed boy your lost
I like the rye white raised on gravy and rice
This Rap-A-Lot Mafia Life....Super Tight
Skip Daddy ain't said must of started smokin' rocks
We got game on loud...bitch you ain't proud
Smoke private stock-got blades chopped
Keep ah young yella bop and ah pistol tah pop
On ah punk mother**er talkin' shit wit ah gun
Pimp and Bun like DMC and DJ Run
Everyday I come down them niggaz callin' my game
Then ge on B-E-T and they don't mention my name
Some Grip It On That Other Level
Face be bustin' they head
Ride Bentley early 90's watchin' out for the Feds
Red the king of south and I'm the aire to the throne
J-Prince done took off runnin' like Dedo Cartione

[Scarface] [Chourus]
My nigga J-D you know he down wit us
Rock-a-Fella Records is down wit us
Cash Money Millionaires Is down wit us
Pretty Boy Floyld you know he down wit us
Roy Jones Jr. he's down wit us
Iron Mike Tyson down wit us
Lennox Lewis is down wit us
And knockin' mother**ers out is ah must
Rockin' Rodney Moore down wit us
My nigga Willie you know he down wit us
Can't forget about Reggie cuz he down wit us
My nigga J-Prince you know he down wit us
Big Teeth and B-Dub down tah bust
And these niggaz in this mother**er down wit us
Takin' mother**ers out is ah must we #1

Foolish Things (Rod Stewart)

These Foolish Things
A cigarette that bears a lipstick's traces
An airline ticket to romantic places
And still my heart has wings
These foolish things remind me of you

A tinkling piano in the next apartment
Those stumblin' words that told you what my heart meant
A fairground's painted swings
These foolish things remind me of you

You came, you saw, you conquered me
When you did that to me
I knew somehow this had to be

The winds of March that make my heart a dancer
A telephone that rings but who's to answer?
Oh, how the ghost of you clings
These foolish things remind me of you

The scent of smouldering leaves the wail of steamers
Two lovers on the street who walk like dreamers
Oh how the ghost of you clings
These foolish things
Remind me of you

How strange, how sweet, to find you still
These things are dear to me
They seem to bring you so near to me

The sigh of midnight trains in empty stations
Silk stockings thrown aside dance invitations
Oh how the ghost of you clings
These foolish things
Remind me of you
Remind me of you
Remind me of you


Sirs Ian McKellen and Patrick Stewart sat with the WSJ's Barbara Chai to discuss performing "Waiting for Godot" and "No Man's Land" on Broadway, Samuel ...

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