[Intro: Chopped and Screwed Voice {Talking}] Hey, now everybody sit down and shut the fuck up! Class is now in session If you came here to hear that lovey dovey shit - get the fuck out! If you soft and scared of hardcore shit - get the fuck out! For those who love raw shit - welcome to Sickology 101 Your instructor for today is - Tech N9ne!
[Verse 1: ~Tech N9ne~] This is style I use pitch, to catch and seduce chicks To signal the true sick, mellow tone is what you spit Switchin the pattern, bust out that quick midwest chatter Some people hate but it ain't matterin, but the people gather, it's flatterin Switchin the pitch, mixin, there's no need to be stiff in this bitch Spittin full clips on a mission for bliss when I be rippin this shit Make it excitin, got to be invitin when you're writin your piece Never be dick ridin, if you're goin to be bitin, you're ignitin the beast This is melodic, melodies, if you got it Mix it hot as tamales, you singin off-key is garbage If you can't keep an octave in a pocket, you need to stop it Have confidence, speak with conviction, don't put 'em asleep when you rock it This is harmony, Nina's taking you through it Make it buttery, utterly beautiful, make it fluid Sickology 101 is in session, I thought you knew it We murderin motherfuckers in music, that's how we do it!
[Chorus:] GET! (ON YOUR FEET!), UP! (OUT YOUR SEAT!) GET! (ON YOUR FEET!), UP! (OUT YOUR SEAT!) GET! (ON YOUR FEET!), UP! (OUT YOUR SEAT!) Such an oddity with it, this is Sickology GET! (ON YOUR FEET!), UP! (OUT YOUR SEAT!) GET! (ON YOUR FEET!), UP! (OUT YOUR SEAT!) GET! (ON YOUR FEET!), UP! (OUT YOUR SEAT!)
From our west coast instructor - Crooked I (Crooked I ...)
[Verse 2 - Crooked I] My killer Daytons can keep me crushin the competition Comin correct when creatin the crazy composition Cannibal character, Calico carrier, got a crooked copper missin Cali killers on candid cock emissions That was constant consonant wordplay Wordplay rhymes with Thursday and thirsty - if I'm thirst-ay! I change the pronunciation of words, per se The English language got to do whatever my verse say So if you want to learn to rap, this is how (this is how) Right now I'm puttin swag in my style (in my style) It's a emphasis on the simplest sentences Then I give 'em charisma with a laugh and a smile (and a smile) If you want your verses to cost higher Then your similes got to be hot as a live wire You need some better metaphors For example, this song is a war zone and you listeners in the cross fire
[Repeat Chorus:]
From our east coast instructor - Chino XL
[Verse 3: ~Chino XL~] Everybody start lockin their windows and doors, Chino might get in It's like light-ning, how I'm strikin a triflin rifleman Bullets flyin up and I'm numbin the bum, like it's Vicodin So much metal in his spine, he could get rich from the recycling! (yeah!) Chino be curdlin blood, don't get burned from the buzz I speak with conviction, like what Da Brat just heard from the judge Bludgeon no love, industry hate me yo I'd rather hear Hannah Montana, than half of you rappers on the radio! Startin drama with Chino, God forbid Auction my lyrics on eBay, that's God for bid Problem is lyric Jesus is more than a man with a sick delivery, like I drive a coroner van (damn) I'm demented, spittin writtens as sick as I can Grenade grippin, fittin to detonate Disneyland I am teachin Sickology, try to follow how every punch line hits Like Chris Brown's fist in the face of Rihanna