back to
Faith4Word/ReapALife Records
We’ve updated our Terms of Use to reflect our new entity name and address. You can review the changes here.
We’ve updated our Terms of Use. You can review the changes here.

Old School Long Playa Volume One

by DP Da Reapa

/
  • Streaming + Download

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    Purchasable with gift card

      $7 USD  or more

     

1.
Stainless Steel Chorus Level 1 Colder than ice brother Colder than ice mother Colder than ice smother All these sucker emcees, they’ll never be another Chorus Level Two Cold Colder than ice So cold Colder than ice Freeze’em Verse 1 Metal alloy to plug the decoy Commence the deport On emcee stationery write the report On infiltration, preoccupation, throughout the nation On devastation and re-creation of situations Past lines and past rhymes of fast lines where brothers dying Manipulating minds Verbal poison like the strychnine Climbing charts just like the Alpine Archaeological tricknowledge commence the decline But on the horizon Amidst the reprising Bring forth the wise and open eyes to lies Inserting good advice worth more than U can buy Want a positive life? Come and give me a try. Got the switchblade knife that be cutting through the butt, ah Guaranteed to make yo girl declare me the ruler Out yo field of vision, then you check me with third eye Drop the rip-rhyme flows, don’ never need to ask why Verse 2 The verbal juggernaut, throwing down the gauntlet Ya’ll emcees paid, but yo rhyme is fronting Take advantage of the masses, ‘cause they don’ know But if you come to my show, we revealing ya’ll hoes You been pimped by the wicked, Selling wolf tickets You come with that same old lame ‘n’ you can stick it ‘Cause we ‘bout to resurrect, the old school battlefield You can’t touch a mike, ‘less you coming with the real Be bound to play yo back with them lyrical curses Emphatical, grammatical, and radical got the verses Clock championships with my scholarship If you don’t flip the script, I got the gat up on my hip I blow you 360 from the front to the back And ask yo girl how I’m doing, yo, you know she like that I be clocking them duckets like Donald, quack quack And you can call Weight Watchers ‘cause my wallet ‘bout to get fat (c) 2004 Nikitah Imani (DP Da Reapa)
2.
Terminally Uncool Chorus You a fool like that To let’em do you that You get schooled like that You let’em rule you like that To keep yo wallet fat But I know just where you lack And if stupid is cool Then I’m uncool like that Verse 1 Refused to live my life in a box They turned they back and the brother found a lock Refused to be a color Refused to diss another Refused to play the mother Refused to kill my brother I lost my cool points Seemed I disappoint ‘Less I’m wasting my time with that crime Instead of dropping dime Paid the high price of being motherfucking nice Folks run over you once, they hit yo ass twice Fake ass gangsters from the 'Burg who play hard But the nigga from the dirty pull yo fucking hoe card And the so-called consciousness, experience-less Yo, come to the real hood, put that shit up 2 the test Respect, I get none Name drop, I get done God come back for the judgment I bet you running son All ya’ll go to hell, this ain’t no fucking curse Just the destiny of yo plane and yo earth Verse 2 Always armed and ready and on point Guaranteed to grab a mike and rock the motherfucking joint You say you bring the danger Keeps one up in the chamber My gat be start to flaming No witness be left to blame me Radio diss my record, neglect and disrespect it ‘Less you dropping bullshit wit’ whack riffs to make hits I always done mine, steadily honing my rhyme So step with them whack ass flows, you wasting time Busters stepping up in my face, they playing games Got knocked out by Dirty South, remember my name And ya’ll sisters dissing brothers who be low on cash Find some other benefactors, ain’t gone pay for that ass This time, for real pay This time, we don’t play ReapALife came for the dealer, to take the chips away No need to resist, you foretold in prophecy You don’t pass go, hoe, it’s DP monopoly (c) 2004 Nikitah Imani (DP Da Reapa)
3.
Dante’s Ascent Chorus Finding heaven in the ghetto Angels on the ground Finding heaven in the ghetto With all this hell around Intro I say my man Dante Was a-going this-a-way With the tight new threads And a few words to say To the brothers on the block, victims of the crack rock And hoes with no clothes Who be dodging all the po-po’s Watching the dealing High speed chasing and the wheeling Needle in the arm to improve the feeling Say it’s hell on earth But I say it’s been worse And it’s way down here Where you learning what you worth ‘Cause everybody can’t survive the hardcore You gots to hold the something up amidst the war Gots to keep the gat up in yo pocket Cocked and loaded, and then you got to lock it ‘Cause somebody grab two cents up out the dime Ya might not make it out the clinic this time With that girl ‘round the way you been seeing since Saturday Who can see heaven in the ghetto, anyway? Verse 1 I visualize thugs in communal militias And street corner preachers trading Bibles for the issues Hoes on the block recognized for they mindpower Drug entrepreneurs rolling up in Trump Towers Addicts testifying about rebuilding they clout And ain’t no sirens, five-o done got the hell out Project residents, and now they own the land If you can’t see what I see, you just don’t understand Verse 2 Gates to the pen open, homies making the break The government say they gonna reparate I turn on the tube, there’s no whack images And no fake gangsters using queens as appendages Folks puffing on green, open air, no stress Traded bullets for ballots, and hooked up with the prez-elect Look like soul ‘bout to get up in the White House Bandera, national flag, now what U talking about Verse 3 Ain’t nobody hungry, yo the hood share food And if they got it to spare, then they pass it to you Kujichagulia broke out, we own the store We charge U a little bit, but never much more ‘Cause now we understand what the dollar be worth And now we building God’s dominion right here on earth No nip, no tuck, no weave, no make- up God put His face on us and that be good enough (c) 2004 Nikitah Imani (DP Da Reapa)
4.
The Game 04:23
The Game Chorus Mother earth a commodity What an oddity Whoever thought it up must’ve had a lobotomy, yo they bother me Erecting this dimension called the new world order I was living in nirvana, they brought chaos to my waters Now they got the money to burn, and money to earn And nothing to learn, I’m getting concerned Your life up in smoke, like hits on the izm Caught in the new slave trade called capitalism Verse 1 Do not pass go Do not collect the dollars If you rolling with’ the blue and not the white collars Take a ride on the Reading, while you contemplating what you needing Masses go hungry, the elite feeding The income tax, the 10% U got to deal with Gave you a car at the start, you think you wheeling But they own all the property cards, you paying rent The end of your turn, you be wondering where yo money went Stop by and visit all yo homies in jail Yo they didn’t roll doubles and they can’t make the bail If you want some power, got to pay for utilities Don’t you miss the day when the water was free? Set you up with a parking plan but it be all deception Play yo cards on a chance Three steps back and change direction Cop yo girl a ring, and they call it a luxury But it’s really just a payoff for enduring the misery Verse 2 Thought U borrow yo way out, the note be promissory But the interest rate be kicking yo ass, a sad story Vacation on the Boardwalk, five-star hotel Now you on the public transit, got yo wheels for sale You catch a long-term bid, just when you having a kid And the banker playing ‘round, was it something I did? You making yo appeal at the community chest But the shit ain’t aerate, in peace may it rest Lie like a politician with yo cup just stumping Can you hook a brother with a little something, something? Only when you see the eyes of other than man Do you understand That they don’t really give a damn Let me explain, the force of yo confusion The money man and yo opponent, they up in collusion They want yo mind, body, soul in state of a slave From the pyramids to the projects unto the grave Bridge Everybody need love (But they looking for money) “ peace (But they looking for money) “ food (But they looking for money) “ air (But they looking for money) “ friends (But they looking for money) “ justice (But they looking for money) “ everything a human being ever needs (But they looking for money) That’s the new world order Now they caught up in the slaughter The fathers, the mothers, the sons, and the daughters But Da Reapa came to break you out. This way out! (C) 2004 Nikitah Imani (DP Da Reapa)
5.
Bittersweet 03:20
Bittersweet Chorus Life is love and love is a lady And love it can’t be beat But if life is love and love is a lady Her love is bittersweet Verse 1 When you work every day But got bills to pay And no matter what comes you got to find ways To please yo babies, represent for yo lady No matter how much love in yo heart, you gets shady Yo inclined to decline, depressions sublime The pills and the bottle help yo ass to climb Over each and every mountain Troubles flowing like a fountain And you gets no respect Those around you discounting A punch from the hand of the man from the under Who seen much rain and whose ears can hear the thunder Most eyes blind, but you see and try to tell It’s all these heavenly bodies be causing hell No change in yo pocket and the suckers get paid If you step to close to the line, you get sprayed You try to stay off the pine box and the hole What profit a man if he gain the world and lose his soul? Verse 2 At times you find yourself alone Call yo friends, they gone, or ain’t even at home You turn to yo forty-ounce companion, who never abandoned It’s you and the bottle Now who the last man standing? Gots no direction, so you genuflecting Hoping the gods and angels will make the selection To pull out of you what you could do, If you could transcend All the hood rules You take a man from the prison, but his ball and chain Be the pressure of the crosshairs aimed at his brain And you can go down, and get mowed down But the real victory is to hold on and stay ‘round Been blessed on this earth for near ‘bout forty years And I’m still here Though I shed many tears Though I shed many tears (C) 2004 Nikitah Imani (DP Da Reapa)
6.
Comfort Zone 05:28
Comfort Zone Chorus So here we are Living in the comfort zone Failing to observe the signs of life in the winds of change so blown Passing time Living in the comfort zone Without a single care in life While the dogs of war make bones No I don’t wanna see things different than me ‘Cause they challenge my identity No I don’t wanna see things different than me That’s just the way it’s gotta be Verse 1 All things in my circumference They come to reflect I Overblown ego manifest if I theorize God can be the one without the fertile dominion To give form to His creation, His will, and His opinion See I and I self we only come to be If I mold yo mind state in emulation of me And as I architect a wreck in effect, I get correct on the one and the three Can you see? When I fail to give you freedom, ball and chain on mine And when I deny you power, don’t radiate on divine My best interest Be equality with you No matter where yo mindstate is, or what you been through We constitute the molecules Fashioned into master’s tools Radiate like black coals But we be polished jewels Gotta think be for I come to bring you some harm Yo, you God manifest in the physical form Verse 2 Life give many choices Hear many voices 'Fore you fall subject to the game, check the sources Twas' written in the scroll many thousands of years That you only gonna get one chance of passing through here So what you call life just a dash in a stone Or maybe dust in the wind, One blink and it’s gone So you can die ‘cause you died fighting hard for the cause Or you can die ‘cause you lived life dying a pause What’s mecca? What’s heaven? What’s the ever last state? When everybody manifesting and the god create ‘Cause Satan only rule with the power you yield And too many giving up the swords and the shield Relinquishing energy that can change the circumstance Like going out from the bulletholes, when shells just glance And I keep hoping everyday we’re gonna make the change But instead of elevating, life be getting mo’ strange. Verse 3 So let the god spit, dis may be my last line My last rhyme, I can’t waste time, I got to drop dime I got to tell you what you worth And give you flowers while you still true birth Got an appointment with a hole in the earth In the dirt, where Iself compose organic And walked the planet, ain’t taking nothing 4 granted ‘Cause when the call come, then I’m gone And only love lives on Because the bond be strong, like this here song It was never ‘bout the money or the fame Or to glorify my name Just trying 2to stay alive in them hood games Where brothers do hang, and be talking that slang, and rolling (rolling) with the bang-bang They forgot who they was So they became who they not They got paid for the destruction, so they thought they was hot But forever I’ll represent God on the mic ‘Cause God was the source and emanation of my life (c) 2004 Nikitah Imani (DP Da Reapa)
7.
Dr. Goodgroove Chorus Call me Dr. Goodgroove Here to make the party move Love potion like lotion Rising your emotion Old school flavor with the hip-hop beat If you wanna shake your body, then move your feet Call me Dr. Goodgroove Here to make the party move Love potion like lotion Rising your emotion Calling shorty with the body and brains Come to Da Reapa, help me ease my pain Verse 1 It be the verbal massage Like the sound of old Debarge Illogical odd god Emcee coming with that hodgepodge Reach inside your brain, Intravenous like the vein And silence all these wannabees that’s rapping the pain Old school long player Spin that ass ‘round slayer I ain’t no pimp, so I’m never gonna pay ya I’m the doc, the medic, embedded Rhyme flows pathetic, I make’em forget it, and then I change their verbal ethic The true hip-hop’ll never go pop, and never stop Never ever let the mike drop, I think not So get ready ‘cause the Reapa’s back Natural herb N fat sacks Tracks of wax and loaded gats, try to take that ReapALife crew beating up on them fakers By the time you look ‘round, your rep’s been taken So grab the girl next to you and let’s get swazy And ‘member ‘twas Da Reapa kept the flowing amazing Verse 2 I spin yarns like Rumplestiltskin DP in the bullpen When she get wise on them lies, then I’ll be rolling in ‘Bout to clock the paper like a press Mad jewels for my chest Done done the poverty thang and I ain’t impressed So we gots to come up Tote board it got to run up ‘Cause we work hard for this game, sundown to sunup For those who think the god be soft Yo Ned, U better tell’em, ‘fore I have to bust off Cause star sign be dropping constantly Philosophy, seeming impossibly Giving competition lobotomies when they bother me And stepping up with them whack rhyme flows quite slovenly Jes, another jitter juice, you know I ain’t done Yo, Classic, spin the wheel, make them emcees run Nut got the beats, Murda Maal got the flows It’s ReapALife double O 4, here we go! (c) 2004 Nikitah Imani (Dp Da Reapa)
8.
Dem Blues 04:55
Dem Blues Chorus Made plans in the afternoon When the sun was greeting you As the rain began to fall You got dem blues Mad bills to pay And now the rent is due Boss says you been laid off You got dem blues On your knees in prayer And you don’t know what to do You wonder if He hears you calling You got dem blues Living in da bottle But it seems it’s just no use End your life, thinking suicide You got dem blues Verse 1 2Tomy people in the bad place, I been there too Think you’re not gonna make it, but you come right through Keep your I on the sign of the one You got to live this here life thing Yo, ‘til your job is done And in the dark of the hour The one will send the shower to cleanse you anew And tell you just how to move to the next level past Stay devoted to the task ‘Cause your days be numbered And your candle burn fast If you got kids You got to represent for them ‘Cause they be the branches from your very own limb And fruit don’t fall too far from the tree How they ‘spose to shine if you don’t shine, G? Knowledge, wisdom, understanding Hope you glad that I came To cross your life path with some words in the game I never know when my last rhyme be spoken But dig deep within and you’ll see where the hope is Verse 2 Never had much money, but was blessed with wealth With a mind state to elevate and knowledge of Self And opportunity to spread the truth Like a divine gardener, spreading seeds at the root Might’ve not clocked fame and material riches But never want for nothing Yo, I gots no wishes I understand life force alone be a jewel Be the system emulator or the master’s tool So what I want to know is what you received From the line sublime divine mind did conceive? A grain of sand or the earth foundation? Something to live on or change your situation? Soon I’ll be gone Time pass me by But don’t you shed no tears And don’t be starting to cry Just use my life, good or bad, for inspiration I’ll catch you in the cipher, ‘pocalyptic dedication (c) 2004 Nikitah Imani (DP Da Reapa)
9.
My Life (Soundtrack) Chorus My life it be the soundtrack for a movie that was never written My life it be the soundtrack My life it be the soundtrack My life it be the soundtrack for a movie never written My life it be the soundtrack My life it be the soundtrack Verse 1 Check the receipts at the gate you’ll find it ain’t hidden But the script, it was written for me and I got to live this Mother forgive this, I’m caught up in the business Slipping sideways on the path, in the aftermath I’m just this side of the bloodbath, emerging past Mad college degrees But knowledge honed in the street Nothing but a mike in my hand To rock the dope beat Armed with a deejay The ghetto instant replay Trying to bring a better day Tell me what you got to say If it’s nothing, better back off me ‘ Cause real Gs ain’t rapping when they doing U silently Positioned in the cut where the lights be dim But like a sentinel I monitor, take notice of them Devise and strategize the method Recalibrate and then correct it Shift mental frames in the brain, bring the pain A verbal ethic. Verse 2 My life it be the soundtrack for a movie never written I’m here to bring back the testaments you be forgetting Original man back, the prophecy foretold I received the charge at 5 years old To represent God, given power rule and tame things Solid gold mike to contradict all them game things Airwave flight, third eyesight, and all the vision I’m dropping this, necropolis, be filled with competition So why you even wanna step and challenge the master The mason is my son, you carved out your disaster Three sixty from thirty-three is just unattainable Got a box and lock on negativity, restraining you Head back to the shop room floor with your designing Back to your corner, next time, come out rhyming Born in six seven, now I clock three six That’s the god force numbers when you caught up in my mix. (C) 2004 Nikitah Imani (DP Da Reapa)
10.
11.
Song for the Future (Your Loving Side) Chorus Hold me Love me mold me Show me your loving side Verse 1 People be talking ‘bout the kids today and act as if they don’t know how they got this way But kids only follow the models we set And if we ain’t ready, then they ain’t ready yet ‘Cause they emulate what we demonstrate So best be on yo P’s and Q’s and keep yoself straight ‘Cause there’s a young one always looking at you Trying to do what you do When you do yo thing or acting a fool Whether you got some of yo own or U grown Or just contemplating the sound of yo first born Everything they see is a teaching, Yo words be a preaching They reaching for the stars you seeking Gotta represent something worth looking at If you thinking ‘bout doing the negative, they remember that Maybe you don’t care about yo own situation But at least leave something for the next generation Verse 2 Most important occupation in life to be a father in times of strife Help my physicals with third eyesight to get it right My job be to prepare the pathway, the freeway, Take’em down halfway Until they can go for them self 'n' the health and the wealth While I slip into the spiritual realm like stealth ‘Cause I know one day I gotta leave here They the only part of me that’ll be here And if any words be spoken for me It’s gone be because of the fruit from my own tree The youth that I raised The youth that I teached The youth that I saved The youth that I reached So let me raise my voice to the rafters of each and every building Until the emptiness of every little heart be filled in It’s time...to save the children (C) 2004 Nikitah Imani (DP Da Reapa)
12.
1 -900-911-REAPA Chorus Say your man don’t love you He’s never got the words to say Dial 1-900-911-REAPA You looking for a soul mate, to ease your cares away Dial 1-900-911-REAPA Verse 1 Calling all queens, public service announcement You bored by the same old lines, U need to bounce quick Allow me to introduce the verbal intercourse A lyrical enticement you’ve got to endorse I’m not spotless on the record, but be just what you need It’s the smooth operator, yo the high’s on me I got the rum from Bicardi, mike skills up at the party And known to sling them things in the war, we pump the shotty With the ReapALife crew, we be quick up on the trigger We terminate the frauds and fakes, that’s how we clock the figures Like the way you do what you do when you do that And I be see the goddess in you, you never knew that I ain’t that flashy, but I’m cool up in the cut No parking on the dance floor baby, it’s time to move your butt. Verse 2 Satisfaction guaranteed, I got the groove on lock And if you kind of doubting me, check the word on blocks My rhyme massage your body, got to ease your pain I see the signs of the pressure he been putting on your brain Since you came up in the spot, you occupy my mind Make me want a close encounter of the sexual kind I got the bath water running, champagne on ice And I be warming up your meal, make you feel so nice So you can drop off the busters with the fake bling-bling And roll with a musician make your heart strings sing I polish, shine you up, and make you hit the hit note A Clarence Carter heart condition, yo I hit ya with the stroke Reanimate the old school beat and then I swing it I think I see my people’s moving, yo, yo, sing it. Verse 3 Every lady is a queen, every queen is a goddess So sisters tell’em which emcee rock the hardest Your man don’t understand them spiritual balances Come to the doctor for the psychoanalysis Then you realize that you don’t got to suffer Divine son done come to be the one to love you And when he starts letting that nonsense drop Yo, you play him like a treasure, X marks the spot ‘Bout time for you to step up and call for the backup I be’s the antidote for the brothers that act up I’m off the bag on first, I’m ‘bout to be stealing Like my boy JB, yo, I got da feeling I’m a whole number, he’s a partial fraction Snap you like a Polaroid, lights, camera, action (C) 2004 Nikitah Imani (DP Da Reapa)
13.
Eyes Like Ice Chorus I got eyes like ice Roll you like dice Prone to the vice Crucified like Christ Can U see what my eyes see? Reflection on these whack emcees Verse 1 Watch the words you say son ‘Cause they gone git yo wig done Reapa find you fucking with my cash Got to git some Building up the crew with no remorse Blast ya in yo own studio and change the bank source Put it on the record for the world to see Yo, you used to be the man, now you fucking history ‘Cause I warned ya’ll bullshitters My team be backed with pull hitters Punks just jealous Wishing they could fucking roll with us You ain’t had the practice Mentally you lack this My verbal gat’s too big, so you can't’ even pack it Hate to see you go down Play yoself and ho ‘round I’ll be passing th’u town Break out 'fore the sundown ‘Cause I’m ‘bout to hitcha with that old school shit That be heads and some shoulders above the stuff you be forgetting The aquamarine guillotine, I’m getting deeper Back on the attack with the wax, it be Da Reapa Verse 2 You pour the gas on the fire, know that it be prone to ignite Pushing poisonous products like lyrical cyanide The secret formula be locked up like Fort Knox ‘Bout to knock these perpetrating bitches straight up out the box Studio gangsters don’t clock no rep with me Don’t want lockjaw, don’t even try to step to me ‘Cause I ain’t got time for boob tube watchers Who pimping and thinking urban culture fads like Swatches Keep a sharpened switchblade knife to cut through bullshit Sinista minister, new testament from the pulpit Understand yo assets, fuck yo lie abilities Hilltop view come with no responsibilities Come on down to Babylon ground zero Where brothers move kilos Trying to clock C-notes And then you’ll understand why I got to manifest Jackslap yo stupid ass in any emcee test (C) 2004 Nikitah Imani (DP Da Reapa)
14.
15.
SBFR (Stop Break Freeze Rewind)/Reapatime Chorus If yo man don’t do you right, come messing with yo mind It’s bout Reapatime If the sucker try to step with some whack ass line It’s bout Reapatime They got the lost and found walking ‘round half blind It’s bout Reapatime Cause we ‘bout to press stop break freeze rewind It’s bout Reapatime Verse 1 The stylistic mastermind Back with them hook lines The old school flavor go down smooth like the fine wine Thought you was on with the whack shit you spitting The old school heads just let you have it for a minute Now we got to snatch it back, You didn’t know what to do with that You been acting up, I got to bring the fucking beat back Original recipe, Don’t even be testing me ‘Cause 'fore you was born son, the Reapa was professing these Straight off the block for the dollars and the change You playing in the grapefruit league, I got the ring You got the cash and cars, but your girl be on mine Mad jewels ‘round yo neck, but I’m the one that shine And if you coming with the beef, got to play you like the butcher then Call the undertaker come with pine box to put you in Chuck D say rolling with them spray-on hits If you looking for a blueprint, know how to kick it like this Verse 2 Yo, you trying to play goal against a Hall of Fame winger U don’t want to spar against the dope beat swinger Cause I’ll get you caught up in a Matrix I play tricks, with ice picks, and my flow’s 2 sick For you to even fuck with Four-star veteran Watch what you peddling ‘Cause I had games on lock before yo meddling When you was a kid, I used to split wigs Now ya’ll frauds want to mess up where I live But I ain’t having it Verbal gat up out the cabinet Switchblade knife in the drawer and I’m grabbing it So bring yo best rhymes and yo best rap songs ‘Cause you disrespect the teacher, now the war be on And you best fill out the card too for yo next of kin ‘Cause when the god nullify you, that be truly the end A verbal duel at high noon, take yo shot at me ‘Cause to be or not to be and you ain’t gone be (C) 2004 Nikitah Imani (DP Da Reapa)
16.
50-11 Rhymes 03:11
50-11 Rhymes Chorus He ain’t no B-52, but he’ll run you right th’u When DP coming after you, now what yo ass gone do? You turned your back and start thinking he’s gone But he got 50-11 rhymes and his rap is strong Verse 1 Dropping bombs like Saigon, dope rides Great Adventure U wonder if you still alive, so let me pinch ya Couldn’t play the game, so Da Reapa had to bench ya Sitting in the outfield, while I’m swinging for the fences Ninth inning, in a fix, I’m deadly don’t you know? Hit the homer like a Simpson, and I’m clocking his “Doh!” First from the gate, steeplechase, I betcha That they’ll call me Oshun for the way that I’ll wetcha Carry a blade, snap a neck, just to reach ya And roll with the ancestral force of orisha Give ya cardiac, a secret Kodak, so take a picture Stealth like Olegba, you can call me the trickster Don’f fuck with the white bread, go whole grain with the third eye Come anti-colonial like Jah Rastafari Catalog of rhymes and you suckers be forgettin’em When they thinking I’m gone That’s when I commence to hitting ‘em Verse 2 I’m sympathetic, empathetic, and I wouldn’t want to be ya Manifest the hieroglyphic force of Husia Step in the venue with the menu like a waiter The rip-rhyme teacher be the verbal discombobulator Lyrics be a strawman, I’m ‘bout to knock down Rumplestiltskin, I spin gold records and rock in yo town Connecting on the visual, elevate the true born Rising like Osiris, I be the Lord of the Dawn Most of these emcees be feasting like the cannibals I be sitting on the throne of Rome just like Hannibal Uraeus on my crown and Ma’at got the balance Blood of the righteous, purified by my chalice So all you whack pretenders come check the coronation Star sign cipher is back, god occupation Third eyesight say Lazarus done gone ‘n’ dozed off Down three devils, three levels, three days, and rose ya’ll (C) 2004 Nikitah Imani (DP Da Reapa)
17.
Nothing But Crap Verse 1 Didn’t we hear these same lines before? ‘Bout how you knock down doors And be toting them four-fours in the street war Life of crime you find time to drop dime God cipher divine say you got nothing on yo mind U pimp the culture for dollars, and blind people follow Check yo mirror sign son U gone see yoself tomorrow And the wages of transgression Disrespect the mike session We’d all be better off If you picked another profession ‘Cause all yo analyses Need mental dialysis U can come out dem palaces youcan check them imbalances The people in the streets need real information For elevation, to change their situation Understand what I’m stating? Reapa mount up, and I be prone to count up Them rappers whose lyrics suck Pack them all back in the Mack truck Check them fake gangsters, wit’ dey level of mobage And throw they ass out with the rest of the garbage Verse 2 What happened to the creative, meditative, emancipative? When the evil tongues come perpetrating as the native Now we stuck up in slave games, Impersonating street fame Apparently forgot the real name of the game Survival, I’m liable, pull the lessons out the Bible Negative results of worshipping all them idols Took the art form I love and then you totally denigrated Dropping REAL bombs on ya now, watch me detonate it ReapALife with verbal knife, my shit so pure U on the road 2 nowhere and I be gots the detour Slinging them verbals like a switchblade crossfire And represent the A-T-L until I don’t die Got you locked, claiming you hard rap star U only in place because Allah u akbar And when the end time come, for yo peep up in the heavens You’ll wish a little bit of yo bread had been unleavened. Verse 3 U ready for the battle, pack the coliseum To store all their entrails, you’ll need a mausoleum Culture vultures and bandits, they planned it Made the mistake and took the old school for granted My rip-rhyme flows permeating In the South land A rubberband man, record spinners, I expand The little train that could and I did, so I know I can Better ask like Heav’ D, who’s the man? Tryin’ to roll on me, drop dime, and do the work Think twice, back off yo mike, 'fore you get hurt You jus’ a private, time to get a private room ‘Cause I be’s the verbal general running the HQ Got Peanut in my crew, Monstar just Vicious Murda Mal and DP dropping dime for the listeners 2 double O 4, We go lo pro, It’s no go, for emcee hoes, It’s ReapALife, yo (C) 2004 Nikitah Imani (DP Da Reapa)
18.
Prophet 03:18
The Prophet Chorus This that hot shit That A-T-L hot shit Dirty south god with the mike I’m ‘bout 2 drop shit Coming for me You’ll be watching the verbal glock spit R-E-A-P-A, you can call me the prophet Verse 1 Ready aim and I fire Competition got to retire Roll up the fat one We ‘bout to get you high While ya’ll kicking manure My shit be more mature Consecrated as pure Now I’m back on tour I be teaching verbal lessons Got the gat 'fore you be stressing Hitcha side the head with my beat and leave a deep impression Sideline N**S giving no support You like an unwanted child that I’m about to abort And ya’ll high class queens, trying to pick a brother clean Get too close to my blade, U be catch a verbal guillotine Got my homeboy Ned V on the wheel Might transpose the ivories, convert it to steel Or maybe gold and platinum, got cheese up in my rap trap Coming out the Burg, put the silence on the claptrap Chorus like Horus the hawk Challengers outlined in chalk Pack your BS and just walk Running the yard with my talk Verse 2 These rhyme wheezy emcees yo they needing them lozenges If I don’t make the playlist, I’m taking them hostages DJ sleeping on the old school beat I wake’em up with verbal slugs, we disturbing the peace Got 808 like the ninety-eight, prepare for the ride Beats of Peanut and Da Reapa,you surrounded on all sides And Murda Mal covering, don’t nobody move The ReapALife crew, two double O four groove U stepping up in my face, but you can’t be serious Twenty years of messing up mikes, that’s rhyme experience Crawl back to your image and the ass you kissing 'Fore you end up pictured on a milk carton missing The king got knowledge jewels to change your brainwaves Spin your ass three-six-o and watch you radiate Suckers be rhyming no more Egos be torn to the floor Thought I done told you before Reapa be bringing the war. (C) 2004 Nikitah Imani (DP Da Reapa)
19.
Tunnel Vision Chorus I been rhyming for a long time son It’s the wrong time son Think you gone play with bad daddy number one Young emcees without the juice in they jock Claim they running hip-hop But they not! I been rhyming for a long-time son It’s the wrong time son Think you gone play with bad daddy number one Ya’ll emcees, yo, you best be listening My style you can't see, it’s like tunnel vision Verse 1 The nubile from the south The old school wit’ new clout We play ya like the legislative pork barrel, phat out Fuck the dogs, You be wondering who put the cat out Hitcha homey like a Louisville slugger, put the bat out Frauds they be claiming they running game and clocking fame and But they dropping my name and lines be lame and I keep the verbal flaming Aim’em and tame’em, we collecting they payment Emcees got to slay them, at ReapALife we make the statement But they never learn they lesson Why these busters coming testing? ‘Bout to feel the real oppression Roulette with the Smith and Wesson So don’t play stop it, with my profit, when I kick the fucking topic Twenty plus years on the mike, I can’t ever drop it The King with the diamond rings, and jewels and tools Send these suckers to school And make’em all look like fools I’m the president, never lyrically hesitant Don’t respond to impediment Grab ya mike and yo stage and come wit’ better shit Verse 2 I’m dope like coke, but can’t be smoked, you gots no hope When I be bless the mike, I’m clean like Scope And U be chasing like the Don Quixote Wind spinning yo way Driven by the hot air flows, the shit that you say But I pronounce yo reign over, the edge like Range Rover That tip when emcees slip, talk shit and drove off I’m bigger than ya Roman emperor like Caligula Kind of, sort of particular Bend yo ass perpendicular Stepping to Da Reapa wit’ yo whack ass crew Is like watching the champ against the handicapped on pay per view A brief contest, it be a first round knockout ‘Cause most of ya’ll punks don’t even know what you talk about So think 'fore you speak over 808 beat And mess wit’ Da Reapa that earned his on streets Yes, I be Da Reapa Yes, I got the knife That’s A-T-L, dirty, dirty, dirty for life! (C) 2004 Nikitah Imani (DP Da Reapa)
20.
Fatback 03:45
Fatback Chorus U make me flashback, to the fatback Gold teeth, gold chains, gold rings, and peeling caps back U fronting on the things you got, we got to snatch that Flashback 2 the fatback U make me flashback to the fatback In the turnips and the collards, four five to make them fall back Reapa on the mic, say you frauds be all whack A-T-L slugger for ya’ll, so you can step back Verse 1 I’m back on the dance floor Ya’ll can open mad doors ‘Bout to heat up the club a little bit more With that shit, that spit, that hit, that spilt, that perfect fit Uh-huh, that’s it! I’m rolling wit’ the ReapALife crew, what you gone do ‘Cause ya’ll suckers is too through I’m ‘bout to do U Ya’ll been wasting time with them whack ass rhymes While the real hardcore was on the block dropping dime Sticker on my LP. Can you peel it? Booming on my dope beat, Can you feel it? Borrowing my flow? No, you cannot steal it Short on my change? Grab them real gats Like a vampire by day I be professing But catch me at night with yo girl, I’m teaching lessons That ass be dragging and I’m gone slay her Don’t mess with DP, he’s an old- school player Verse 2 U been waiting for a brother from the hood to drop dime And I come to freak mine, so watch when me when I speak mine Watch me go topical, mentally hot and tropical Grab the nearest mic, I’m guaranteed to be dropping you Got eyes for the shorty, who be shaking in the party Got the body whipping on the Reapa, such a hottie Yo Ned she got them booty shorts Tell me what she do that for? Winding on the dance floor Reapa give her much support Reproduction be the function, conjunction junction, the beat be pumping Reapa grab a mic and guarantee to bring you something I got the beat to make you rock baby I got the groove to make you go crazy Chillun’ ya’ll wanna check them statements again I got the keys to the hip-hop penthouse and rolling in Jacuzzi, water boiling, with the three dope sisters We ‘bout to get loose in here, now mister! (C) 2004 Nikitah Imani (DP Da Reapa)
21.
Coming Up 02:56
Coming Up Chorus This is a song for them scrubs that gave a brother no love when he walked up in the club Now I’m rolling with dubs, getting pounds from my bros Catch the ReapALife buzz It say we coming up Verse 1 Equidistant from the polar Sound be quadrilateral Infrared, spot the whack emcees and scatter you Highly lethal rip-rhyme flows, that prone to explode Weapon out my scabbard, body parts exposed I come bearing gifts of plenty to rock the good and many Fueled by the jitter juice and shots of the Henny So guard your grill, green, girls ‘fore I take’em Requisition your titles and your idols and then I break’em Deadly poetics star sign code Reapa Knowledge subterranean, the flow just deeper Best commune with the womb of your queen this evening When god come 2 bless her, yo she gonna be leaving In the real rhyme battle, these fake gladiators Lay eggs benedict, like Arnold, they traitors My blade slices, dices, hit ya once, hit ya twice as Pray to holy mother, she named Isis Verse 2 Figured we was manifesting retread shit Just watch the manifestation of a beat we call a hit And the dopest rhyme producer, the one you called a loser Now the one you choosing, my 808 abusing Your inner temple, subliminal, it’s criminal The way I got your girl, working, jerking, it’s simple yo As you approach, you catch reproach Reapa knife up to your throat, yo it’s just no hope My dialect drug in a vial Stronger than the product on the street to make the crackhead smile So watch me shift over to the other level I’m blasting on you devils Rhyme flows, got several And punks that talk, now outlined in the chalk If you coming with the BS, you can just walk You can eat my dust, ‘cause you I don’t trust These posses I crush This flow? Just a must. (C) 2004 Nikitah Imani (DP Da Reapa)

credits

released January 1, 2004

Produced, Composed, Mixed, Arranged, and Performed by DP Da Reapa except where indicated. Recorded in the Dungeon at Africa House Harrisonburg VA under the auspices of BootyButt Bootleg Productions.

license

all rights reserved

tags

about

DP Da Reapa Council Bluffs, Iowa

DP Da Reapa (Dr. Nikitah Imani) is Pres. and CEO of Faith4Word a company in Council Bluffs, Iowa of which ReapALife Records is a vital part. He is from the ATL and holds a BSFS, 2 master's degrees, and a Ph.D. He is Professor of Black Studies at the University of Nebraska-Omaha. He represents his hometown ATL doing the old school hip hop. ... more

contact / help

Contact DP Da Reapa

Streaming and
Download help

Report this album or account

If you like DP Da Reapa, you may also like: