Wlixは、アルバム『{albumName}』の一部として1995年2月28日にRCA Records LabelによりリリースされましたCoast II Coast
BPM93
メロディック度
楽曲がどれだけ明確で覚えやすいメロディを持ち、はっきりとした音楽パターンに沿っているかを示します。メロディック度が高い楽曲は、わかりやすく印象に残る楽器やボーカルラインが特徴です。
アコースティック度
楽曲が、電子楽器やデジタル合成音の代わりに、どの程度アコースティック楽器（ピアノ、ギター、バイオリン、ドラム、サックスなど）に依存しているかを示します。
ヴァランス
楽曲のハーモニーやリズムによって伝わる音楽的なポジティブ度や感情的トーンを示します。値が高いほど幸福感、興奮、陶酔などの感情を表し、低いほど悲しみ、怒り、憂鬱などの感情を表します。
ダンサビリティ
テンポの安定性、リズムパターン、ビートの強調などの要素を組み合わせて、楽曲が踊りやすいかどうかを示します。ダンス向きの楽曲は、一定のテンポ、反復的な音楽構造、強いダウンビートを持つ傾向があります。
エネルギー
楽曲の知覚される強さを示し、テンポ、音量の変化、音の密度などによって影響されます。エネルギーが高い曲は、力強いリズムや密度の高い編成を特徴とし、エネルギーが低い曲は、音の間隔が広く、テンポもゆったりとした構成になる傾向があります。
歌詞
Ya dumb dunce, it goes –
Once upon the rhyme, Jack is out to clench a fist
And drop flows that gets deep like The Abyss
All in this – freestyles wild when I'm throwin' this
Non-bogus brothers, shake the hip and toe, and just – get involved
Roll with the soul, make the head nod
Look at the bash, slash back, I kick the abstract
Make brothers say, "Damn, that rap's fat," recline that ass back
A smack-back and slap from Wildchild with the ramshack
I used to pick up the damn slack bed on the ramps back
In the days, when Eric, was in the, honey phase
Nowadays, turn in applications
Rockin' the Appalachians with the ladies with the sexy activations
On the Blackwatch, I own a black watch, although I'm Black, watch
You want to – confront who? A microphone check, one, two
Complicated for ya (Yeah)
I got the naps that break the picks
Plus the props from Tha Liks
Hahaa, Loot Pack's on the rise
Sayin' "Liks, Liks, Liks, boy – run your backside"
Yo, J-Ro, Madlib, my man
Just – get on the mic and please arise the jam
I bust the animated suspension, vocabulary wack MC prevention
My division is itchin' for the switch
Pitchin' upon the West Coast, the best brag and boast
Braggadocious, ferocious emotional osmosis
I skip like a stone when I lake over a break
I rip microphones and I take over the fake creWWWs
I wish I could sing like Smokey do
But I'm vocally loc'ing with the Loot Pack crew
I'm Madlib the Bad Kid, brothers try to do what I did
Back in junior high, 'cause I'm fly with my
Vocabulary tradition, total chaos
Rhythmatic static, in fact, they case erase, so stay off
'Cause nobody knows how it goes with the flows
And rows of hoes froze, chosen, bust erosion on the lows when
The ill speak, plus Tha Liks' knot thick
Mad quick to rock ya lip, like Hip-Hop to grits
But yo, freak this, I come with uniqueness
I'm like Pepé Le Pew, you hoes are my weakness
Back in high school, you didn't think I could get nifty
Now I'm on your magazine rack down at Thrifty
Since '83, I been housin' folks
All the way from Orange Country out to Thousand Oaks
It ain't a-nother rapper in the country that can crunch me
If you don't believe me – run up and try to punch me
I flip the funk like Monk Higgins when I'm diggin'
I'm swiggin' on a Snapple, 'cause my crew be wicked when we gig it
I rock the mad vocab, when my toe jabs, I'm so bad
I make you flow bad, like when I blow lads to pieces
No releases on the two steel wheels
Comes the lyrical skills that kills more ducks than oil spills
My **** run for the hills, I can track 'em through the mountains
Rico kick that kind of shit that got more bounce than Roger Troutman
So pass the weed to the top top-seed
With lyrics as deadly as the VD's that make ya lungs bleed
Plus, I dig like coal miners, through the crates of old-timers
I be blowin' up the spots, like dynamite, with one-liners
Oh, reminder – to my ex-bitch, when I find ya
I'ma smack you for them times I had to star-69 ya
So D-Loc, my **** with the hat to the back
Get on the mic and show these **** where you at
Here I am, doing shows, wall to wall
Eight stacks tall, I still won't fall
Never will I be sell-out poverty, some don't believe in me
Still I get my verbs on, my verse on, I raps long
You're dead wrong, all in all
Should say the sale starts, when A&R says go
You start with the dope verse, and you're sold
Now you're on clearance when the record starts sellin'
But I'm not willin', to be uncovered from the depths of the under
I'm under, for the duration
The past, present, future revelation
I gain the trust of those who comprehend
Because they know I send **** through the other end
Of this industry, commercial side envies me
Females are freakin' me, no time for 'em
At least not yet, just a few that I will call bitch
I'm not a player, strict rhyme sayer, say your prayers
Now I lay me down to sleep
Don't sleep, I'm on the creep
To invade the homes of the ill-minded
I find it's fat, rewind it back – slack, not here, boy
Wack to the skull-crack when I attack
Unleashin' crazy chaos, you're way off, so stay off
I'm about to blast off
Written by: Dudley Perkins, Eric Brooks, Jack Brown, James Anthony Robinson, Otis Jackson, Rex Smith
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