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Written by: Vanilla Ice, Tha Hit Men, Darryl Delite Allamby, Zero Produced by: Vanilla Ice & Zero Published by: Ice Baby Music, Inc., DJ Zero Music, Inc., Oliver and Cooley Music Publishing, BMI. Keyboards: Darryl Delite Allamby Background vocals (rap): Vanilla Ice Mix by: Vanilla Ice Synchclavier engineer: Robert Wechsler Recorded & Mixed at Luminous Studios, Inc. Here comes the lyrical breakdown, Move out the way punk, and take a seat clown, It`s the Ice Man slicin`, dicin`. Hittin` like Tyson. So listen to the rhythm I givin` em, My lyrics got the impact of a Mac truck When I`m sendin` `em Yo, my funky rhymes flow, Kickin it like psycho And I`m exploding like nitro-glis, Coming like a hurricane bliss, Straight sacking the track like a quarterback My man Zero is back with a killer slice, I`m blowin` up the mic, Ya damn right, Vanilla Ice With twice the punch, I put the crunch on Marky And take the funky out of his bunch. I hit the home run You got to third base, son. I`m in first place, Take a seat clown for the beatdown. Uh, tonight`s the night of the big fight, With the mic in my hand I got the grip tights. Ready to swing it like a Louisville slugger, Right at the head of a sucka, Crack home run. how did it feel to have the mic hit ya dome, son? Uh! I tried to make your head ring like a church bell. I put it on ya hard I`ll make ya hurt well, Cuz you fell into my booby traps No more good vibrations, I`m tired of your boots raps, So I eat ya like scooby snacks, An maybe roll you like a zig zag Or smoke you like a hootie mac, You did what I did, So you`re gonna lose kid, Cuz to me you`re still a new kid on the block Get off my jock, Get off my diznok Before you get dropped For the beatdown Yeh, this is the last verse, Should I say the last round. And its time I knock out another class clown. Sit down and take notes As Vanilla kicks ballistics withdope lyrics, Oh waht a pity, though Cuz ya had to spend three million dollars on your video. It was video and I can admit that, All that money`s wasted cuz your songs wacked, I make stuff to make the people gather. An` let `em see us in a pit, I wanna slam dance with ya, Hammer. Now can I kick it, of course I can. yo, you will get burned out, then turned out. I`m gonna keep comin stong, song after song, Ya thought I`d fade, well ya did wrong. I`m the imperial threat for this sound fools. Ha Ha, here comes the lyrical beatdown.
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