From: Tonedeff – “Heads Up” (12”) Written by: Tonedeff Produced by: Domingo ©2001 Chorus Heads Up! If you’re feeling the notion/ Let your mind be free and you don’t stop/ OH NO – Tonight is the night/ We’re set to get the party live. V1 Yo, open you eyes, heads up, Time to shine/ Rewind to find I was born with a mind to rhyme/ The sensational case, of impeccable taste for the placement of treble & bass/ Statements that accelerate when I’m wrecking the breaks/ In the second it takes me to erase any hecklers face/ I raise the stakes when I’m setting the pace/ And baby, that’s to move and don’t quit/ I got bitches nursing my dick with they holes cause they know that I’m so sick/ So, I keep my connections close knit/ I’m the usual culprit when you’re whole shit falls off like an old stitch Got most of my foes bent, I suppose cause I flow swift/ You never need a bag of chewing tobacco to watch this pro spit/ I’m Tonedeff, whatever I want I go get/ Taking 4 of these hoes for the homestretch and they don’t even know yet/ Stick ya with speed and leave both sets of your clothes wet/ If you’re arrid, then you’re sure to get banned – No sweat. V2 Yo, I making this madness happen with the act of rapping/ So, savagely phat I even have the average handless man clapping/ Or tapping they toes, dancing in the jazziest fashion/ Taking they ass to step class to harass ‘em and ask if they absent/ Yo, cause when it’s time to take attendance/ I’m bending your very essence, even have St. Nick requesting your presence/ Connecting me to a mic’s weapon invention/ Just ask the inmates, I’ll cut you off before you finish your sentence/ The best @ getting attention on a regular rotation/ She gotta get down with no waiting, Cause Tonedeff is only so patient/ Some chickens won’t go down, cause they’re obsessed that their chests are for flotation/ So, yo, take it down for your notation/ New York, Miami, Chicago to Cali…the whole nation/ Heads banging, with standing ovations when I rock/ I got you saying Heads Up, like a hooker punching a time clock. Bridge Cause we can bounce everyday. And if you Say word, we’ll bounce every way That we can do, bring your crew/ And Ladies get crazy/ Cause we can vibe all night/ And if you say Word, your feeling alright/ So Put your head up, head up/ And get up, get up, if you feel the Notion V3 Mic Check, 1—2/ The non-literal lady killers are coming to hunt you/ Never ask us just how much ass we run through/ I level the field, and if you we say we can kick it, then I’ma punt you/ End to end, inspecting and inventing trends Pressure your peers get all of your girlfriends to bend/ You like men, don’t stop the action to pause it/ Uh, you like chicks, then I’m watching that from the closet/ That ass is tapped like a faucet, I smack it and toss it-don’t know when to say when/ Cause yo, “We be Clubbing” like we were Cavemen/ I remember when you could Pay Ten, to enter the Playpen/ Now you paying $30 dollars to get your name in/ The Guest List, Mami wanna get nominated for best tits with the wet lips/ It’s obvious she’s a definite temptress/ We then split when I finished my set list/ We ate out with an appetite, ended up @ the bed & breakfast.

From “Happy Fuck You Songs” Written by: Tonedeff, PackFM & Mecca Produced by: Tonedeff ©2002 QN5 Music (ASCAP) Chorus We don’t say “Hi” & We don’t say “hello”/ The only words that we speak after wrecking your show How U Doin? We don’t say “Hi” & We don’t say “hello”/ The only thing that we say when we step to your ho How U Doin? V1A – PACKFM It’s outrageous, The way I stay rippin up these stages/ I spit shit so sick, you wish it was contageous/ Spread like The Plague is with vibes like silent pagers/ Niggas kickin fake shit, blame it on the matrix/ You’re so wack that you’ll leave a theif screamin “I cant take this!”/ I get Biz like Mark, I’m catchin weck, you’re catchin vapors/ All you’re perpetratin’ is pure cetification/ That you wouldnt be as dope as me if you did ya best impersonation/ I still cant stand you, rhyme parapallegic/ Niggas thinkin I’m ill, ‘cause their raps are makin me sick/ So what you want from me?, Evacuate my company/ You could swallow my sperm, and wouldnt be spittin as nuts as me. V1B – TONEDEFF I’m cussin when I’m bustin frees, I’d love to see you fuck with T / If I crush your team with cuts that means, I clutched you in my custody/ I touch a beat reluctantly, cause of what it does to me/ There’s something freakish up, it seems, I suddenly can jump the trees/ The function is perfunctory, with stunning ease I lunge for Greece/ And only cease, because, you see…I stumped my feet on Tuscany/ My running cleets were scuffed to pieces. MC’s are cunts in heat/ That scrub and clean for nothing, B – Their mugs are freakin’ ugly/ They’re clumsy in their drudgery. Shit…my tongue is tweaked abundantly/ My luxury money’s eaten by monthly fees/ In summary, I stunningly can stomach these abundantly unfunny geeks/ These scummy freaks are somewhat neat to hunt for weeks/ I strut the streets comfortably, cause punks duck in retreat/ I’m the one that makes you shun beliefs, like nuns & priests with cummy sheets/ I’ve brung complete sums of treats. You’re buggin how I strung this feat/ The subtlety is null indeed, so don’t confront us when we meet! Chorus V2 – MECCA I will go all out, to humiliate you/ Burn through any squad that affiliates you/ That’ll give the kids on the corner something to chat about/ Give all these mad rappers something to be mad about/ I’m made for this, like guns was made to buck/ Got entertainers pissed, cause I break their legs for luck/ Stuck watching this son of southside who accomplished this/ Blocking this? Tell me how you plan to stop apocalypse/ That’s claiming to be all the flame & the heat/ And how we, reign in the street and put your name if defeat/ Have a seat…don’t ever come through acting loud/ Cause I will leave you slumped on that block you’re so proud of/ You bow, cause I always impress, always amaze/ Straight arsonist…constantly coming with blaze/ In another minute, you g’on wanna chase me/ Cause your vibe just can’t replace me, flow just can’t erase me/ I remain rhymer-proof, time constructed/ Forgive them father…they know not who they fuck with/ Cause as an MC, I stay baptized to bang/ While you could be crucified and still couldn’t hang/ Whoever think they got something for it, get up on it/ I’ll teach you and your crew what it means not to want it/ I don’t air out tracks…I ventilate, rhymes penetrate/ Crews disintergrate… it’s mecca’s way or the interstate. Chorus

From: Domingo’s “Para Mi Gente – Estamos Unidos” Written by: Tonedeff Produced by: Domingo ©2000 QN5 Music (ASCAP) V1 Ayo, Im playing knick-knack patty knock a beat the fuck out/ rejecting cats faster than gay kids bounced from the cub scouts/ Tossed from the front door of the clubhouse, like, “Whats up now?”/ Scour the grout off they feet and making em walk the rough route/ Im sick of niggas wearing Sean-John, always puffed out/ Hogging mics, acting retarded, just like Forrest Gump sounds/ So, if these rappers wanna bust rounds, I’ll have a field day/ I’m always in-zones when I touchdown, compton to bucktown/ Pounding the scrubs, How in the fuck your stuff counts?/ When Verbs is on witness protection, after hearing how I snuffed Nouns/ Stalk a circus and hunt clowns… If you’re smoking/ Tonedeff causes emphysema, and will ultimately turn your lungs brown/ And that’s my recommendation, I’m saving ya’ from deterioration/ By making replacements for inferior baseman/ Players that never could play at the game they were placed in/ Checking the roster for their names, just to discover that they were scraped in. V2 Yo, I cross cultures like puzzles of words/ All y’all nickel & dime MCs are better off smuggling herb/ The minute I mutter a verb, I spark infernos/ I should be locked up for fucking kids like I was Mary Kay Latourneau/ You saying there were no… Witnesses/ Quick… if this hypocrite fibs a bit, kick his shit in and just get the whip and a hypnotist/ I’ll finish him with a little lyrical hit and then stick em and spit in his liquor with gin in it till he’s admitting it/ Y’all wack rappers are just effiminate/ If eating dick’s la vida loca, y’all niggas is living it/ So, Come ON!!, no need to do the arithmatic/ This kid is just sick, so, Heads up, peep my single Ridiculous/ I inconspicuously wow brothers, without studders, Leave sounds smothered/ You couldn’t come to grips with cow udders/ Like proud mothers, I brag with the best of em/ Ask your man what score he got after Mr. Deff tested em. V3 If you’re the champ, hand over the fucking title now/ More rules than a cider house, pay me the proper respect… just close your eyes and bow/ Its show and tell ya better hide your style/ Im trying to separate the wack from the weak and I cant seem to divide the pile/ Stop grinning or I’ma strike ya smile/ Like lawyers strapped with time bombs, you’ll never survive the trial/ Cause I’ll defile ya name, card your ass and swipe ya file/ Bitch, Im the river of venomous flows that spiked the nile/ Despite denial, some rappers are never happy/ Yelling and shit with no email addresse talking bout get @ me/ Dog, I’m serious, with handhelds Im shouting out, like Nextel/ Don’t need a copy of Microsoft Office to EXCEL/ WORD. Im making these power points like Bill Gates/ Cause yo, if tone is recorded on chrome, its instantly the Ill Tape/ You know Domingo makes the real breaks/ Your mother said “Guanabana”, when I asked her how the dillz tastes.

From “Underscore” Written by: Tonedeff Produced by: Domingo ©2003 QN5 Music (ASCAP), Beatskillz (ASCAP) Hook A Come on, baby, I’m a rolling stone/ Don’t wanna conversate, I wanna take ya home/ And if ya, wanna take a pony ride, it’s on! I wanna Shag, Baby! I wanna Shag baby! Hook B Shag! You know you want it. Shag! You know you’re fiendin’ for it. Shag! Come on, get on it! Shag! I feel your body heatin. Shag! Cause I’m a swinger. Shag! And I just wanna please ya. Shag! You know you want it. Shag! You know you’re fiendin’ for it. V1 – TONEDEFF Hey Ladies! Ayo, it’s time to wild out/ Slide on ya tight blouse, and dress like it was 105 out/ Y’all coming to my house, and we going shag, baby! Mad Crazy, Stacked ladies, (You gonna call me tomorrow?), yeah, Maybe/ Hey Fellas! Don’t miss the call to come through/ There’ll be about 70 women, that’s wall to wall and are ready to jump you! Son, you ain’t seen these chicks cloggin the stairwells/ Flaunting their bare selves. The situation’s sticker than Mary’s hair gel/ You’ll have to wear bells to find your way back to the heads that you came with/ And spit game with a blindfold without bumpin into the same chick/ Down in the basement, they got lace, whips… and up on the rooftop/ We be keeping the goods hot, cause ladies know we’ve got the wood stocked/ It’s all love. But don’t expect your valentine’s this year/ Remember to spread the joy with pals of mine when they get here/ And it’s clear, you’re bout to get your ‘hot-zone’ showered/ The name is Tonedeff. But you can call me Austone Powers… Cause I’m a swinger baby! Chorus V2 – TONEDEFF Let’s keep it moving y’all. Hey, to hell with your inhibitions/ Really nobody’s watching – you can tell from the mixed positions/ Distance isn’t a factor, when ya bodies are stacked up/ Especially when the jacuzzi is packed & there’s fat bastards trapped in the bathtub/ I be asking for backrubs and receiving a full body massage/ Hey, I’m shagadelic! That’s my hobby & job/ If you don’t wanna be down, then you’re probably a snob/ get out & get gone/ Or show me Victoria’s secrets – without the bra & the thong/ You be knockin my boxers off! (Let’s Play Doctor)... You visit me! Strip and shimmy, please, I need to examine you physically/ I’m an International man of mystery, I shag and then “poof” Got Carmen Sandiego wondering where In the world I went to/ I sent you the invite to this function/ You know – the one with the pic of my bedroom they use for kama-sutra instructions/ You wanna get hustling on this rush for lust? You can ride with us/ My Goldmember’s got the midas touch!

From “Hyphen” & “Game Over 2” Written by: Tonedeff Produced by: DJ Rob ©2001 QN5 Music (ASCAP) Chorus: Get ‘Em Up, Now, Gentleman, Wet ‘Em Up Hit Em Up, Now Everyone – Move In Get ‘Em Up, Now, Gentleman, Wet ‘Em Up Hit Em Up, Now Everyone – Ride Out V1 Yo, I hit em up with a bit of a touch/ Of atypical lyrical visual cinema/ When I set up in the thick of the rhythm I get em intox-I-cated/ Its not complicated I made this one of a kind/ Run of a rhyme, to stun or to blind, fly women from the front or behind/ If they stuck in the line, its something to find/ I aint stubborn to spend, but this one brother been, hunting for dimes/ I pluck em in time, the second I get a chance to/ Hittin the backroom, in the mid of the song we dance through/ Bashful? Never That/ High Maintenance? Send her Back/ This track is for the broke as fuck cats with the better raps/ Seven women stacked in our laps/ Figured that we were prized with Kentucky Fried Chicken Dinner Packs/ Is it a fact? Oh Yes indeed/ T successfully brings the best recipe. V2 Yo, we gonna play Rawhide all-night/ I’m bringing the broad pipe just to get your walls tight/ Never see it coming with your foresight/ Loving to leave ya’ quadriplegic like a fall from 4 flights/ I’m more like the type to charm t he hell outta ya/ Why do ya’ wanna assume I play you like a harmonica/ On to the next order of business/ Attraction happens in a fabulous simultaneous instant/ Niggas know what blabbin about/ The second your mind reaches a dime piece, you be thinking of askin her out, With the last of bit of doubt/ Taking the drivers position, never settle for the passenger route/ With an ass that’s outlandish T-o-n-e cant stand it/ This woman even got me speak span-glish/ Baby Tu Eres Sexy! Forget It/ She wasn’t feeling the charge like it was bad credit anesthetic/ No time for feeling pathetic/ When at the spot that’s so hot, the liquor be getting tepid/ I’m sick of getting rejected already this evening/ My team’s steaming cause I’m already fiending to be leaving/ Even now, that I be breathing loud/ I wasn’t peeping how there was girl reaching out/ To take my hand, But when I turned Fate Commanded/ I’m left stranded – (Cock-Block) – I HATE THE MAN! V3 [Beginning Portion Missing From Video] It’s Game Over, restart the system/ Beats spark & blister, whenever T drops the hits/ He tops your list, no stopping this/ Checking the sound for how loud it gets, got your pops knocking fists/ Against the wall, Hence the call for all/ Rappers that pretend to ball to commence to fall/ Eventually you will prolly be stalling for Mom/ To back that ass up, how juvenile of a brawl/ I’m suitable to beautiful tracks/ Due to the fact Im shooting to catch a cutie with back in 2 minutes flat/ Physically Rapture, what your mommy & daddy have manufactured/ Can it get any faster/ Leave it to Brendan Frazier to blast past Ya’/ Ask ya’ dad man your mother be calling me assmaster/ Raps are hazardous/ Tone is a belligerent pacifist, like a pastor’s fist/ But wait there’s more, add the asterisk/ I ain’t leaving the club until I got an ass to hit/ My plans for smashing get tarnished/ Cause there’s nobody left in this piece to get it started/ And I don’t flip for the typical harlot, I’m finicky, never begging’ your pardon/ Knowing I’m sprung whenever a certain part of my anatomy hardens/ I’m honest…Dickin a chicken with an Elektra-magnetic figure ala Carmen/ Goodness, Gracious/ Tonedeff as nice as skies are spacious/ Vivacious… Knock a Hotty liable to fry some ice glaciers/ Rock hard bodies attached to nice faces/ Bras of high weight, or tall with tight waists/ Or Thongs that vibrate in all the right places/ Never hit up the bar for my tastes/ If you’re less shy wasted than buy 9 cases/ Time is wasting I’m chasing the scattered ass/ Contemplating my chance of a latter pass/ At the honey that was taken from me, snatched from my grasp/ That’s it! I’m about to tackle the task/ So, I dash in the path of her man with a laugh/ Just to act natural plus she was mad bashful/ My rap flow canceled her plans, left her man surpassed/ Then I took her to tantra class.