(Take that microphone from that kid and heat it up)
I keep the mic hot, I heat it up kid I keep the mic hot, I heat it up (x2)
Mic check y'all Then throw it to the floor The crowd wanted more so I came in the door The great Rakim, papermates to the pen Knowledge is born and the light strikes again Elements burst and gave birth to the first Get the pen from the nurse and hook the mic up first When it absolutely positively has to be there on time I deliver a rhyme The heckler of hip hop, hop to this one I got more kid, they hate to miss one Style got jazz and the crowd's out of control Cause I've got the mic and I've got the soul New York's own microphone technician Thoughts'll give 'em visions Style'll make you listen Devastates the ear, my opponents can't see me I gave 'em directions, but wrote it in graffiti But they wanna know my m.o. ease back though They want the exact flow, then study my steelo Sketch the skit, but they still can't see what I did I heat the mic up kid
I keep the mic hot, I heat it up kid I keep the mic hot, I heat it up (x4)
Then I explode with a song with a original form Or I'll perform it at high mode, they want the code Destroyed the blueprints and documents and hits Crews been, um, looking for clues ever since Beats start brewing up, rhymes is rough Stages and microphones self-destruct And when you thought you had the format down pat You get kicked back to the doormat with that Cause I've got a high tech style with know-how Select the file watch the crowd go wild Bad beats to bless the females' finesse Points shot stress causing cardiac arrest Mics too hot for you to told in your hands Now they sell 'em with fifteen fans and mic stands Mine still overheats, if you touch it you can see what I did I heat the mic up kid
I keep the mic hot, I heat it up kid I keep the mic hot, I heat it up (x4)
If his opponents'll run a rap, tell 'em ease back I've got a knapsack with hip hop attacks Stacks of artifacts, formats in the act Tracks after macs, and you can't relax Rakim's equipped with penmanship Left my penmate, I could graduate from Penn State I could take any trade and make a high grade Even get extra credit when the rhyme's displayed As soon as I manifest, they cheat off my test Surround my desk and then stress the progress But they miss the point, forget the skit I'll bust your lip if you rip the script Brother's ain't cool and I'mma smoke up the room And I've got a crew called the last platoon Figure it out kid, problems coming Emcees are running cause I'm the gunman Extremely dangerous I bust rhymes into the crowd And watch 'em all scream out loud Aw man, and then I slam like a batteram Ra got the plan with your favorite jam
I keep the mic hot, I heat it up kid I keep the mic hot, I heat it up (x4)