"Yo, VIP, Let's kick it!
Ice Ice Baby, Ice Ice Baby
All right stop, Collaborate and listen
Ice is back with my brand new invention
Something grabs a hold of me tightly
Then I flow like a harpoon daily and nightly
Will it ever stop? Yo -- I don't know
Turn off the lights and I'll glow
To the extreme I rock a mic like a vandal
Light up a stage and wax a chump like a candle.
Dance, Bum rush the speaker that booms
I'm killing your brain like a poisonous mushroom
Deadly, when I play a dope melody
Anything less than the best is a felony
Love it or leave it, You better gain way
You better hit bull's eye, The kid don't play
If there was a problem, Yo, I'll solve it
Check out the hook while my DJ revolves it
Ice Ice Baby Vanilla, Ice Ice Baby Vanilla
Ice Ice Baby Vanilla, Ice Ice Baby Vanilla
Now that the party is jumping
With the bass kicked in, the Vegas are pumpin'
Quick to the point, to the point no faking
I'm cooking MCs like a pound of bacon
Burning them if they're not quick and nimble
I go crazy when I hear a cymbal
And a hi hat with a souped up tempo
I'm on a roll and it's time to go solo
Rollin' in my 5.0
With my ragtop down so my hair can blow
The girlies on standby, Waving just to say Hi
Did you stop? No -- I just drove by
Kept on pursuing to the next stop
I busted a left and I'm heading to the next block
That block was dead
Yo -- so I continued to A1A Beachfront Ave.
Girls were hot wearing less than bikinis
Rockman lovers driving Lamborghinis
Jealous 'cause I'm out geting mine
Shay with a gauge and Vanilla with a nine
Reading for the chumps on the wall
The chumps acting ill because they're so full of "Eight Ball"
Gunshots ranged out like a bell
I grabbed my nine -- All I heard were shells
Falling on the concrete real fast
Jumped in my car, slammed on the gas
Bumper to bumper the avenue's packed
I'm trying to get away before the jackers jack
Police on the scene, You know what I mean
They passed me up, confronted all the dope fiends
If there was a problem, Yo, I'll solve it
Check out the hook while my DJ revolves it
Ice Ice Baby Vanilla, Ice Ice Baby Vanilla
Ice Ice Baby Vanilla, Ice Ice Baby Vanilla
Take heed, 'cause I'm a lyrical poet
Miami's on the scene just in case you didn't know it
My town, that created all the bass sound
Enough to shake and kick holes in the ground
'Cause my style's like a chemical spill
Feasible rhymes that you can vision and feel
Conducted and formed, This is a hell of a concept
We make it hype and you want to step with this
Shay plays on the fade, slice like a ninja
Cut like a razor blade so fast, Other DJs say, "damn"
If my rhyme was a drug, I'd sell it by the gram
Keep my composure when it's time to get loose
Magnetized by the mic while I kick my juice
If there was a problem, Yo -- I'll solve it!
Check out the hook while Deshay revolves it.
Ice Ice Baby Vanilla, Ice Ice Baby Vanilla
Ice Ice Baby Vanilla, Ice Ice Baby Vanilla
Yo man -- Let's get out of here! Word to your mother!
Ice Ice Baby Too cold, Ice Ice Baby Too cold Too cold
Ice Ice Baby Too cold Too cold, Ice Ice Baby Too cold Too cold"
Shit man, Vanilla Ice'd have my vote. I might have to vote for him... it's entirely possible that Christian Zahra, ALP member for McMillan (that being my electorate) might perhaps be disallowed from standing... and the election is mere weeks away. Mere weeks.
Apparently he wasn't a citizen when he enrolled to vote, back all those years ago - though I'd contend that his rival, Liberal candidate Russell Broadbent was a conscience-less waste of space when he enrolled to vote, and it really evens itself out, doesn't it.
I just really hate his shit-eating grin, and he'd be pretty fucking smug if he won. He'd be like, "Oh hillo, I'm Russell Broadbent, member for McMillan," and I'd mumble under my breath, "fucking cocksucking motherfucker ill fucking bomb your fucking office into the fucking ground you motherfucking smug motherfucker better watch your fucking coffee like a fucking hawk broadbent or ill fucking put a bunch of fucking laxatives into your fucking coffee and then youll be like shit man i need to go take a shit and then youll fucking die from an exploding bowel and ill dance on your feces covered corpse dance like a fucking sailor who took a bunch of fucking dancing lessons."
And he'll say, "Sorry, what was that?"
And I'll say, "Nothing. Pleasure to meet you... you fucking hack, better watch your back shut the fuck up, while i back the fuck up and we fuck this track up."
It'll really spin him out.
The other person who can count on my vote is Patrick Swayze. Three reasons:
1. Donnie Darko: Who WOULDN'T vote for a paedophile?
2. Dirty Dancing: He's like a fucking sailor that took a bunch of fucking dancing lessons. And if anyone knows tax policy, it's sailors, man.
3. Ghost: He can pick up pennies. And float them around. You know how the old saying goes: Pick up the pennies, and the FOUR MILLION DOLLARS look after themselves.
I must admit, Ghost and I have had a rocky relationship over the years.
I remember when it first came out at the cinema, and the concept of the departed soul of Patrick Swayze lingering on was a terrifying one. I mean, it really fucking freaked me out.
But time went on, and slowly thoughts of Ghost faded from my mind...
And then, some years later, when I was 16 or something, Ghost was freshened in my memory. It was probably on TV or something. And then it became worthy of mockery - because frankly, it's very easy to mock Patrick Swayze. This culminated in a hilarious moment in the principal's office in which a fellow student was trying to draw some sort of comparison between some planned event and the film Dirty Dancing. But she couldn't remember what the film was called.
Grace: What's that film... with... with.. Patrick Swayze?
Jelly and I, at the exact same time: What? Ghost?
It was pretty funny.
Anyway, it's not really that bad, and you should probably rent it from the video store, you fucking idiot... you could have seen it for free on TV last night.
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