Brain Wrap (c) 1991 by Kirk Madison and Lewis D'Aubin revised 2000 by Jeff King PREV TRACK NEXT TRACK The brain - it's between your ears Finally here Cold fact what you suckas fear It's in your head, born and bred If you didn't have a brain you'd probably be brain dead (Filbert!) Situated below the cerebral cortex Into the cerebellum, cold in effect Is the medulla and I'm not foolin' Frontin' and grillin', come on chillin' and coolin' in Brooklyn! Hangin' in tha home hood You need a brain if you wanna make good Crips at my crib stagin' a drive-by Homey's in tha corner on crack you know he's brain fried I pulled a nine millimeter and told 'em to stop Shots rang out, one of them killed a cop I proceeded to aim and shoot ya boy in the face You know a brain is a terrible thing to waste Yo Brain! Your Brain! Your Brain! Come on, git it up git it up! Brain! Your Brain! Your Brain! Come on, git it up git it up! Brain! Your Brain! Your Brain! Come on, git it up git it up! Brain! Yo Brain! Yo yo your... BRAIN!!! Yo! I'm a lyrical poet The rhymes are in my brain just in case you didn't notice I'm on tha mic throwin' a dope rhyme Def enuf to make you all go blind Mastering tha beat with my cold crush posse I'd make a rhyme here but nothing rhymes wit' posse That's cause my brain was trained by tha maestro James Brown, a man I think we all know With the girlies sittin' in the front row I'm gettin' bizay after tha show Kissin' and touchin' and strokin' her gently In my Mercedes, Lexus or Bentley Or any of tha other cars that I own Except for my bodyguard we'll be alone He won't hear us cause he is so def Paid to protect you, his name is Big Jeff That night we go to a party Everybody's there Oh @#$% Busta Rhymes, eminem, and ma homey Master P, Juvenile, Fred Durst and O.D.B. I hypnotize them with my brain power Bustin' a rhyme gettin' richer by tha hour And why not cause they paid me to come here The rhymes flow from my mouth to your ear They enter your brain and cause a reaction Dope beat called a brain contraction I'll make you dance till you suckas get sore feet Your brain can't handle this stupid fresh bass beat Harder than Puff Daddy, tougher than Kid Rock And all the rest of you bustas can lick my Brain! Yo Brain! Yo Brain! Come on, git it up git it up! Brain! Yo Brain! Yo Brain! Come on, git it up git it up! Brain! Yo Brain! Yo Brain! Come on, git it up git it up! Brain! Yo Brain! Yo mutha #$%*in' BRAIN!!!

"Greetings from the future. I come from a society consisting entirely of D.J.'s" "WHAT?!?? You don't mean..." "Yes Dr. Pinkerton... in my time THERE ARE NO MORE M.C.'s! So you will have to rap for us!" "Of course... a rhythmic discourse - about the brain!" Here's another remake of a song from the original cassette, and a very popular song as well. The lyrics to this song were originally written back in 1991, in Calculus class (I failed calc that year...) and grafted onto a ridiculous beat that was derived from Depeche Mode's 'Master and Servant' in an attempt to annoy Kirk's girlfriend. We ended up slowing the beat, and everything else, down, generating a real brain dead delivery. We have had a lot of fun with this one onstage since the very early C.O.G. shows. My old guitarist Dr. Wissenschaft used to wear a large digital clock (blinking 12:00) around his neck during this song. I remember people at early shows pointedly ignoring us during the heavy metal songs, then getting up and getting down when the beat started for Brain Wrap! As funny as the original version of the song was, it was getting pretty moldy by 2000, and so Jeff decided to freshen it up by giving it a Limp Bizkit rap/rock treatment with heavy guitars and revised lyrics. Jeff actually performed the lyrics on the CD. Onstage, I do the rap, and lately the 'party' namecheck has had 'ODB' replaced by 'Dr. Z' (ODB couldn't make it... he's dead!) Credits Drums...........Jeff King Guitars.........Jeff King Bass............Jim Fairchild Lead vocal......Jeff King Backing vocals..Jeff King, Lewis D'Aubin Recorded and mixed 2001 at C.O.G. Secret Lab, Harahan LA