Texty: Emanon. The Waiting Room. Make Music.

I make music to roll to, the kind of music that holds you
Music to set your goals to music that blows you away
Music to start your day, music to melt all your problems away
I make music to get high to, music that get all up inside you
Music to tell the truth to music to lie to
Music your can?t live without music your friends talk about
Music like m&m?s that probably melt in your mouth
I make the kind of music people make love to
Music that people hate to, The kind of music b-boys can break to
I make music that skateboarders on the grind can skate to
Music that you could jump in a lake to
I make music for the cassette deck and music for the CD
Music for turntables and for the TV
Music with acapellas and music with instrumentals
Music for brains in the back seat of your rental.
I make music

Turn round push up the sound and play that
Song for me mista deejay now stay back
Watch me mash up the dancehall the way blacc
People dem get down you know we a play at
Every pan beat and jump up dem a set up
Dance till me sweat up and me whole body wet up
Anyone who holding up on de wall dem a betta
Feel the mic checka stand up when I say get up

Eeny meeny miny moe
Music gets up in my soul
Make me wanna wiggle my toe
Make me wanna bust a flow

What would you do if there was no music
Would you make it through the day or would you start to lose it
I know that I?d probably go crazy
Music makes my mind clear without it I go hazy
Play me a sad song eyes get teary
Play me a happy song and I?m getting cheery
Give me a guitar and I?ll be strumming it
Sing a Negro spiritual and I?ll start humming it
When I hear a fat beat yo I get to dancing
When I make a dope beat I buckle up my pants and
Buckle up my shoes and, head to the studio
Because I be dropping shit just like a boody hole
Whether it?s jazz or funk or soul music
Folk songs, rock and roll I?m gone use it
Beebop, gospel, sample it loop it
Bang them drums and make them sound stupid

I make music for the rich and for the poor in the street
Music for heads who buy music instead of something to eat
I make music with a pencil or pen
A crayon or a Krylon I make music no matter when
I make music when I walk on the street and shuffle my feet
I make music in my dreams and when I?m falling asleep
I make music because I have to The kind of music that grabs you
Music that people cry to music to laugh to
Music for racing crews on the highway to crash to
Music for real niggas in the street to mash to
Music to blast to and music to make peace to
Music to break the peace so you could pull out your heat to
Music for the niggaz who make music too
And most of all I make the music for you