Show Lyrics

Mars ILL - Sounds of Music
(from the album Raw Material)
© copyright Uprok Records/Sphere of Hip Hop Records/Mars ILL

manCHILD’s parts only

Verse 1:
We invite you and your section to witness pure perfection/
Right here in the form of these finest phonograph selections/
Drums in all directions, arrange tonal inflections/
Sound penetrates your chest like some sort of ill infection/
Reflect eternally on these high fidelity masters/
Whisper secrets in your ears in the form of ghetto blasters/
Rap until the rapture, what you need, not what you want/
As we represent the artform that was born in the Bronx/
Forming the songs that haunt fake emcees nightmares/
Might scare you straighter than the mayor did Times Square/
Right there, the dopest vocalist hold this down like an anchor/
Driving the mic like a motorist yelling, “Rappers are in Danger!”/
Beautify tracks like trains by graff painters/
Speak to rap fans like family even though you’re perfect strangers/
Emcees showing their anger, so they be, they stand true/
The sounds of music, do re mi, peace to Julie Andrews…

Sounds bounce through back alleys, pound the grouds of where you live/
We found the call to pack venues wall to wall and we did/
For all you kids, heads, whoever who are holding it down/
All in all we do this now so you can soak up the sound…

Verse 3:
Behold the now, evolution of stereophonic sound/
Ultrasonic combinations of thought and revolution/
Lock down spots like a convict, plus I’ve made a resolution/
Don’t take part in popular practice of mind and noise pollution/
Voiced the best solution but no one really wants to hear/
The God of Abraham and Isaac was the answer all these years/
Do I have to strike hearts like Richard Gere with primal fear/
In the drivers’ seat of life but really much too blind to steer/
Target ears with acoustic weapons, the music of the culture/
Collect props from heads like Fleer, but won’t be honored with a sculpture/
Steer clear of idolotry even if you might call it me/
I’d fall to see hypocrisy held high in the halls of we/
I tell the fly to be grounded, the sharp to be well rounded/
When you’ve mastered the facets of the craft, they’ll be astounded/
Hold fast to syllabic patterns and different forms of meter/
Use the vocab, teach the masses when you’re blasting through the speaker/
The power’s behind the tongue, I’m the novel, you’re the reader/
I’m the manCHILD, I’ speak for the Most High, Elohim the leader/
Surpassing heads who are lofty or holding it down for the underground/
Behold the now, evolution of stereophonic sound…