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9 16s - A Ratatat and John Blake experiment

by John Blake

9 16s - A Ratatat and John Blake experiment Cover Art
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Recorded in a car, in the parking lot of the Empire Diner in Parsippany NJ, John Blake demonstrates several different lyrical flows and styles using a compilation of short beats by Ratatat, arranged and produced by Chris Renne.

credits

released 12 October 2010
vocals: John Blake. beats: Ratatat, from the unreleased demo record "9 Beats." arrangement/production/recording/mixing: Chris Renne

tags

tags: 9 beats afrobeat electric electronic funk hip-hop john blake new jersey ratatat the secret weapons New Jersey

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Track Name: 9 16s
Track 1
Undoubtedly any doubts you had about me
Will get laid to rest no apologies
And I feed off stress, for dessert, a little hurt
Til I get sick, projectile an ill verse
Call this nine 16's on my One Shot Ep
I'll piss on ya LP with only three
So imagine what I do now its tripled
I rip ripples, rip currents, and RIP people!
Ratta-tat-tat, boom bap, wit a back pack
Or you ridin’ round dirty, click clack, bop-pin wit da yac
Im on track, no need to weave, baby
Still sippin, still dippin, and still crazy
Still wit the Kool aid smile, still Swayze
Get Ghost, get on, or get smoked
Yeaa now you know there’s fire
Can’t be ignored no more, only admired
 
Track 2
Bacardi hard dawg/ own the party ya’ll/ double fisting, and fishing without a rod, gawd/ voice the bait, permanently permeates/ apply pressure, never, penetrating the place/ speak on it, at speakeasy’s, liquor makes my speech easy/ So stop frontin’ or be easy/ be-lieve me/ I gets ba busy, boi/ Manny Paquiao, packing punches, in bunches/ (yeuh) Gwan get gangsta, mi fear no one/ you shotta’s but yet ya know sho gun/ yaa don’t know, ya don’t say, nada a damn thizang/ bells get rocked, ding ding ring in the liberty (This is what I want ya’ll, this is what you need (need)/ give it all you got ya’ll, knock em to their knees!)
 
Track 3
Ima go getta/ forth an fifteen, with five seconds on the clock, my eyes aren’t blinking/ hail mary, full of grace/ open up, here’s a taste/ got the tingle on ya tongue, body feelin kinda numb/(uh) Im on my supa fly, Jimmy Snucka/ you fly supa high, altitude might kill ya/ super fly, Curtis Mayfield, that pusha/( ha) over the edge, just push ya/ get da V, I, Si, I ,On/ Crews Knee High, Bob, B I N/ (Yea) Im so defiant/ no need trying/ airborn stay flying/ Durty Jerz, that muddy water flow, Yokozuma sumo, you know, crushin’ anyone you know!/  Who tho’ John Blake
 
Track 4
A beast, a monster, the beats new conqueror (huh)/ relies on wits, no lies no tricks/ (uh)
no pies no bricks/ just smiles and sits/ (yea)
The world don’t stop, you ride with it/
The choice is yours, (yeaa) always been,
Manifest your own destiny from within
The heart that beats, the spark that greets that part
That voids the dark, when you in charge
(Light It!)
Ignite the fuse, and fight for you
(Charge In)
Head first, till ya head hurts, do work
On foes, that lurk, deep in the shadows
I gets deep, feel me, bone marrow
 
I gets deep baby, yeaa, I gets deep baby
 
Track 5
Definition of ill
John Blake, definition of real
Less talking, keeping it Trill
You know the deal, stop playing the field
Bunch of playas, aint got the skill
See em, uncoordinated, more complaining, I’m this I’m that
Themselves they feeling, so much looks like masturbating
I master my own thoughts, an own flows
Bates opponents to talk ish, and get blown
Away, tornadoes, typhoons, hurricanes
Ya’ll burgers to the King, have it your way
 
Hey, yea how you doin, who me, maaan yea im still coolin/ and these fools still speakin….who the truest? John Blake,(eeh)  what chu doin
 
Track 6
For my home, for my people, from the block to the steeple/ yea I just creep thru,
Carbon monoxide, no more apartheid/ Im apart from those who only see one side
Mo Mo Moove out my way/ Vamanos undalay I gotta get mine today/for the day is done, you fake fraudulence, need to get from/ round here, here on this planet im a bandit with with some bad habbits/ that might make me an example of what can happenin/ when ill meets pestilence/ spreading lethal injecting, into every vain corrupting your intelligence/(dedede…..flatline) im good im bad, im a fool, im sad/ but im happy to be here, to make you drop ya jaws or laugh (haha)
 
Testing am I on..am I really on 1,2,3 is this thang on, Is this really on 1,2,3
 
Track 7
Ill’in feelin the rhyme, rhythm and time, who can comprehend with such a minimal mind/ sub-liminal, minuscule, hittin you, lifting you, hig-her/ my word, can S.T.I. EMu-late, futuristic, cataclysmic, super-cala-fragilistic.. bump that/ come a little bit faster/ whoa/ catch up and read up before ya speak up/ (oh)/ on a vengeance, anyone contending/ leaving you suspended, (Huh) no detention/ detainee, Guantanamo, Geronimo, no hide-n-go/ I'm leaving you in circles in a stand still, merry-go/
Round, got the sound-errr, bite me/ I bite back, sharp with the canine/ Drinking some Saint. Ides/ya’ll ain't Saints I, Breeze though with Cajun Voodoo/ you Drew, I draw, quarterback and score!
Board, reads…phsssh who gives a damn/ murderous madness, mashing, masking nothing/
ya’ll be bluffin, big bad wolf huffin and puffin boi ya’ll somethin
 
Track 8
Black Vans, Black Tee’s, Crisp Dickies/ Fitted to the side, nod ya head if you wit me
Walk around like the grim reaper/ more a reminder/even with a smile, death’ll find ya
So smile back, an embrace it/ face a time where time has no face, give you a face lift
Smiles an frowns I still put it down/ for my city for my town/ for my country/ for the crown
Jersey born brethren, breathe that breath, that have outtatowners shook to death
Respect is earned, watch ya step/ vultures and goons, pecking at that neck/
Want what I got, I got what I need/
Mic in my hand, an the whole crowd with me
Stop, drop, shawty give me fifty!
Diddy bop mean, man I coming so clean (Yiii!)
 
(I rock, I Bop, Im cooooold! Got my index up, OH NOOO!! I rock, I Bop, Im cooooold! Got my index up, OH NOOO!!)
 
Track 9
Another brief snippet, keep the fiends from twitching/ thank ya’ll cause ya’ll the business/ This business exactly that/ so when I rap, its nothin but my soul black yea boy (holla back)
On the front line, cock back and loaded/ show me my opponent, I show you I own it/
No matta the beat, weather, im so clever/ you leave it to beaver, damned/ (oh man)
I influence, you and yours truly
John Blake, you do a adore, dually
Why, only the beginning,
I, tend to linger, notes R&B singers
We’ll hit some hi’s, and crawl through lows
The beats don’t stop, you already know
On goes the show, till the next one, see you in a few…A YO where’d he go!!