TeachUrself Tuesday: 23 Styles of Rapping for the DIY-er | EZ Song Lyrics: from Lyrics to Song in 60s

Music Lovers, It’s Jenny at IVOREEZ hq and this Tuesday, we’re going to learn how to rap!  Yes, as singers, you’ll need to rap at some point.  It may not be your strength but as vocal artists, learning all the techniques to every style of music is necessary for your vocal toolbox.  The first time I tangled with rap was in the late 80’s somewhere after Sugar Hill gang to just before Eminem.

I was lead singer with a popular band at a high profile wedding on a 300 year Mansion in the south. Needless to say, this wasn’t the time or zip code for hip hop or rap music but somehow the music quickly turned to a popular song with a rap interlude.  As a young singer current on all genres of music, I knew the rap but didn’t feel comfortable sharing this genre with over 250 white guests largely over the age of 50. It’s possible they were younger but I was so young that to me, everyone over 30 looked 50.

When the MD (Music Director) began the vamp, I knew in my head it was time to rap but I stood there with a sinking feeling in my stomach like I was about to kill the postive vibe at this gorgeous, perfect wedding. With much resistance and lengthy hesitation, the MD kept the vamp waiting for me to start.  To survive that moment, I took a big breath and channeled the #1 rule for the stage:  Allow the music to move you.

I began to rap and gave it my all, unconcerned of the reception amongst this group of people. I guess I didn’t care what they thought of my performance. The song needed a rap and at that moment, the loyalty to music and integrity to the melody was most important.  It was just the rap: no theatrics that typically involve hands punching the air, crouching low while spitting into my hand or dropping expensive rental mics on the ground but it was the best I could do.

In the 5 seconds that the guests stared blankly at the stage, I pulled back in hesitation slightly in case I needed to make a quick dash off the stage. Just then, the audience threw their hands up and rapped along with me.  Turns out that the Kappa Kappa Gamma sorority liked Kris Kross and it made their night special. Win-win.

Moral of the story: It’s ok to misjudge your audience but, know your rap.

So, for those of you who like to read, I’ve posted the subtitles below for this helpful youtube clip. All you MDs, stage leaders and lead singers, practice up and Enjoy!!

What is up its NLJ 23 styles of rapping rap cuz somebody had to do it So here we go? why am I yellin’ at this volume? Like I’m telling it off a bad script in a small room? Society’s problem Do you know why? do you know why? I’ll tell you why I don’t know. Too Deep yo I’m better than you I’m sweatier than you. I’m hotter than you. I’m smarter than you I fart more than you do I’m more racist than you More homophobic than you even though. I sound like Dr..

Seuss. I’m the best rapper rocking a tracksuit I will call you out if your rhymes are wack white people were like ‘hey. Yo let me try that’ I grew up in Suburbia no, I won’t murder you, but I will challenge you to a game of tennis and Let you win From New York to cali to the blood and crips man fuck all the pigs sellin’ drugs with clips I’m violent terrifying places I reside in in these times these gangstas just lying saw their face on scared straight and crying then they tattooed the tears I’ll bend the chicken off the dance floor bring a job burning down on the dance floor. Shake a booty on the dance floor Unless you’re an aerobics class oh Yeah, look what your mother like what Verizon now communist a bad things unless you got a problem with my hair or with my smell [and] never put my cherry before I got married, please stop I’m wary if your Potter is Harry.

Marriage is defined between a straight man and a woman, so if it’s legalized Holding hands with the groomsmen baptized in the lake that’s cooler than yours does day and this and Vegas pray for rain in California That I want to kill myself I fucking hate my parents in my school even though they want to help me get a job My dead family thinks that I but joke but I tore off their limbs, and I split all their throats I’m just kidding They’re living I wrap up on my dreams and hopes Internally rhyming all the lies that have ever written always violently Describing all the times and I’m with him in the only 90s white rapper never been inside of a prison I used to make fun Of the pop stars and all the celebrity children while you kind of good yeah what they listened [to] in jail don’t understand so it’s only gonna last a month cookie song me for Arlington girl I’m saying to you You ain’t gotta worry about it saying the booze I got all this money from my bar.

Mitzvah yes from Degrassi to what? Oil companies, that’s Rich Defense contractors Act Rich corporations That’s rich Government wait don’t ask me Barry. There’s a total running clothes while I’m stroking on the fool spoken of your helicopters linking your velociraptors clinking Marmolada with the crunchy kills people who understand and you’re not smart got the girls riding in the back of Tractor just as misogynistic as the other rappers, but the audience’s happier. I’m not blacker They’ll call me frakker. You race acid rap about [a] [VG] anime no CDS Are MP3’s I’m down with that ogg a lot less [of] when I record in my PC Master race We binky boo keys with the girls I’m a pro with the beer pong and get in the tail smoking on a cig note inhale freshman girls are showing their age Then we’re going to bang and a better view consensual Y’all from West London not a lot pygmalion with a pumping I don’t think you understand me on the prime minister, baby I’m against the world guns up then you wake her I’ll hitch with pen [sissy] we will beat the play of your heater box box soccer team Why am I rabbit like I couldn’t even breathe while I rap about is running feed [Rapid] [entrance] of time wrapping intricate I’ll need a man without make a love song money in the bank big button that song skinny pratap Eating for breakfast, and he does the dishes.

No I don’t do dishes just run the same word repetition repetition repetition Poems intercom principal power pump with the pop off with your palm power shambala It’s a lowrider pitbull song that I ghost writer wrote cuz it’s so dumb you’re we gonna get drunk in the club on the boat Let me rub on your butt with the nub in my pants 22 spitting and Freddie you different a minute beginning in quite a lot to go order, but did I miss it I’m kidding But you can come enter, but though [they] like a hidden you can always share the video suscribe to me if you did and rabbit about everything that you would listen to What your deal is okay? And now? 23 styles of wrapping some of which [influenced] my own sound which you can [check] out here if you enjoy to be sure to do All the things that I said in the fast part, thank you very much and have a great day

 

As found on Youtube

Sing & Play piano in 60s with IVOREEZ PIano Tabs & EZ Song Lyrics. FREE decals!

23 Styles of Rapping

►If you enjoy nerdy raps then subscribe! http://youtube.com/nonelikejoshua

Thanks for the Comment, Like, Subscribing and Sharing!

►Get a Gaming/Anime Merch Subscription for 10% off just for Allies!
http://lootcrate.com/nonelikejoshua

► Follow Me!
Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/artist/13rNJ8sWbjGYIUjqtHZvL2

Snapchat: NLJmusic

Facebook: http://facebook.com/nonelikejoshua

Soundcloud: http://soundcloud.com/nonelikejoshua

Twitter: http://twitter.com/nonelikejoshua

Instagram: http://instagram.com/nonelikejoshua

Exclusives & Sneak Peeks: http://patreon.com/nonelikejoshua

My 7000+ Sample Vocal Pack: http://goo.gl/Po6nkq

Download All My Music & Merch: http://nonelikejoshua.com

Lyrics:
Why am I yellin at this volume?
Like I’m telling it off a bad script in a small room? – Society’s Problem
Do you know why? Do you know why?
I’ll tell you why – I don’t know. Too Deep

I’m better than you
I’m sweatier than you
I’m hotter than you
I’m smarter than you
I fart more than you do
I’m more racist than you
more homophobic than you

Even though I sound like Dr. Seuss
I’m the best rapper rockin a tracksuit
I will call you out if your rhymes are wack

White people were like, “hey yo let me try that!”
I grew up in suburbia, no I won’t murder ya
but I will challenge you to a game of tennis!
And let you win

From New York to Cali
To the bloods and crips
Man fuck all the pigs
selling drugs with clips

I’m violent
Terrifying places I reside in
in these times the gangstas just lying
Saw their face on Scared Straight and crying.
Then they tattooed the tears

Pump in the gym
Get on the dance floor
Break it down break it down on the dance floor
Shake your booty on the dance floor
Unless you’re in aerobics class

Yeah I smoke with your mother
Like we’re brothers in a commune
Don’t say bad things, unless you got a problem
With my hair or with my smell…

I never popped my cherry before I got married
Please stop, I’m wary if your Potter is Harry
Marriage is defined between a straight man and a woman cause
If it’s legalized, I’d hold hands with the groomsman
Baptized in a lake that’s holier than yours, duh
Satanists and pagans pray for rain in California

Yeah I’m so fuckin angry
that I want to kill myself
I fuckin hate my parents and I hate my school
even though they want to help me
get a job

My dead family thinks that I’m a joke
so I cut off their limbs, and slit all their throats
I’m just kidding, they’re living
I rap about my dreams and hopes

Internally rhymin every line that I’ve ever written
Always violently describing all the times I’m with women
The only 90’s white rapper never been inside a prison
Back then, I used to make fun of the pop stars and celebrity children

All you got to do is yell
OKAY
this is what they listen to in jail
Say what?!
Do this dance yo
It’s only gonna last a month
Cause this song needs more autotune

Girl, I’m a sang to you.
You ain’t got to worry about a thang my boo.
I got all this money from my bar mitzvah.
Oh yeah, and from Degrassi too

Oil companies
Tax the rich
Defense contractors
Tax the rich
Corporations
Tax the rich
Government
Wait, don’t tax me bitch

There’s a toaster on the goose
while I’m stroking on the fruits
Poking holes in the roots
of the helicopter sinking
your velociraptor’s drinking
marmalade with the crunchy tails
If you don’t understand, then you’re not smart

Got the girls ridin in the back of the tractor
Just as misogynistic as the other rappers
But the audience is happier I’m not blacker
Don’t call me cracker, you racist asshole

Rap about a VG, anime, no CDs or MP3s, I’m down with that
.OGG lossless when I record in my PC
Master race.

We drinkin brewskies with the bros
I’m a pro with the beer pong getting the tail
Smokin on a cig, no inhale
freshman girls start showin their vage
Then we’re goin to bang
And it better be consensual!

Yo I’m from West London
Soundin like Pygmalion with a crumpet
I don’t think you understand me
I’m the Prime Minister of the drum n bass beat
I’m a gangsta where guns are banned
If you a wanka, I’ll hit you with a pan

Seriously, we will beat the bloody shit out of you if you talk bollocks about our soccer team

Why – am I – rappin – like I – couldn’t – even – breathe?
All I rap about is pussy – money – weed
Rappin in triplets, I’m rappin in triplets

I don’t need a man, but I’ll make a love song
Money in the bank, fake butt in a thong
- fuck skinny bitches, I eat em for breakfast
then he does the dishes
no I don’t do dishes
just rhymed the same word: repetition