• Lyrics: play full screen play karaoke
• INTRODUCTION (WOODSTOCK) - Jimi Hendrix
• Hellbound (H&h; Remix)(feat. J black, Masta Ase - Eminem
• A Message From The King - Bob Rivers
• Presentation of Miss Turnstiles: - On the Town Soundtrack
• Five Guys Named Moe (The Cabaret) - Five Guys Named Moe Soundtrack
• The Dap Rap (feat. Ev) - Tuba!
• On The Balcony Of The Casa Rosada - Carpenters
• Introduction - Jimi Hendrix
• Cosmic Curves - Dee D. Jackson

ANNOUNCER:
"LADY'S AND GENTLEMEN, THE JIMI HENDRIX EXPERIENCE."
JIMI:
"I SEE THAT WE MEET AGAIN HMMM. YEAH WELL, WELL, WELL. DIG,
DIG, I'D LIKE TO GET SOMETHING STRAIT, WE UMMM WE GOT TIRED
OF THE EXPERIENCE, AND EVERY ONCE IN A WHILE WE'RE BLOWING
OUR MINDS TOO MUCH, SO WE DECIDED TO CHANGE EVERYTHING AROUND.
AND A CALL IT 'GYPSY SONS AND RIANBOWS' FOR SHORT NOTHIN' BUT
A BAND OF GYPSIES. WE HAVE BILLY COX PLAYIN' BASS, AND UM FROM
NASHVILLE TENNESSEE WE HAVE LARY LEE PLAYIN' GUITAR OVER THERE,
WE GOT JUMA PLAYIN' CONGOS OVER THERE, JUMA, AND WE HAVE GRANNY
GOOSE, OH I'M SORRY MITCH MITCHELL ON DRUMS OVER THERE, AND WE
GOT JERRY VELEZ ON CONGOS TOO. YOU GOT YOURS TRULY ON PETE WHISTLE,
WHAT ME WORRY? GIVES US ABOUT A MINUTE AND A HALF TO TUNE UP OK.
LIKE WE ONLY HAD ABOUT TWO REHEARSALS SO A WE'LL ONLY DO A PRIMARY
RHYTHM THING. (SOMEONE IN THE BACKGROUND) I HAVE MINE THANK YOU
I HAVE MINE THANK YOU, BABY."

~{Announcer}~
Welcome back, to the stage of history
~{Eminem}~
Yo.. Slim Shady!
Yo... I Fuckin' I...
I'll puke, eat it, and freak you (eww)
Battle? I'm too weeded to speak to
The only key that I see to defeat you
would be for me to remove these two Adidas and beat you
and force feed you 'em both, and on each feet is a cleat shoe
I'll lift you off your feet so fast with a roundhouse
you'll think I pulled the fuckin ground out from underneath you
(Bitch!) I ain't no fuckin G, I'm a cannibal
I ain't tryin to shoot you,
I'm tryin to chop you into pieces and eat you
Wrap you in rope and plastic, stab you with broken glass
and have you with open gashes strapped to a soakin mattress
Coke and acid, black magic, cloaks and daggers (ahhh!)
Fuck the planet, until it spins on a broken axis
I'm so bananas I'm showin up to your open casket
to fill it full of explosive gasses
and close it back with a lit match in it
while I sit back and just hope it catches
Blow you to fragments
Laugh, roll you and smoke the ashes
Chorus: J-Black (repeat 2X)
I see the light at the end
But every time I take a step, it gets dim
Tell me is this hell we're livin in?
If so, heaven's got to be better
But if we're hellbound, whatever, let's go down
~{J-Black}~
Am I the worst? Because I, never go to church (never)
I run a red light then sideswipe a hearse
I'ma drink 'til my liver rot, see the doc
Leave the E.R., then hit a bar for a liquor shot, fuck the liver spot
One day we all gon' die
But when I die, I'ma be so high
that I'ma get up and walk, leavin the concrete bare
with the chalk outline still there
I smoke 'til I choke and I sex a lot
I got a cross on my chain but it's just to rock
Now if I pray everynight (night)
Do I still have to hold my trey very tight?
You feel me God? I done did so much shit while on Earth
I smoke, I drink, I curse, and to make matters worse
I bust my gun first, and then I chat with your corpse
Since way back, I was one to never like back-talk
See me at the pearly gates in line, wearin a Northface
Nickle nine at my waist, God done lost faith
Angels greet me but I don't reply back
Just show me to my quarters, and oh yeah, where's Thai at?
Chorus 1/2
~{Announcer}~
Maxie was seriously wounded but the soul still burns
Final battle, fight!
~{Masta Ace}~
Analyze the strength of my game, like Lee Corso
Call me a lost soul, with a vest and my torso
And of course, yo, y'all know I'm no stranger to danger
Like Christ in a manger, feel a whole range of my anger
I breathe down shit so hard you can see sound
And beat down these rap clowns in like three rounds
My pen 'bout as sharp as a dagger, walk with a swagger
Tie your wife to the back of a black Jag and I drag her
Ten blocks, untie the bitch and I still bag her
Give her a smack in the ass and a six pack of lager
My shit go as deep and as dark as a train tunnel
My flows spill like usin the wrong end of a funnel
Everyday I grow more older, and more colder
Fly you to Colorado, roll you over with a Boulder
I know you want to retaliate but you won't dare
Cause you fuckin with some niggaz like this who just don't care
Chorus
{J-Black}
But every time I take a step, it gets dim..
Tell me is this hell we're livin in?
Haha..
{Announcer}
Time's up!
You lose!

(announcer)
And now, here with a special Christmas message,
The immortal...Elvis
(synth plays "Silent Night" in background, Elvis
speaks...)
Well thank you, thank ya vurry much..
This here is 'The King'. I know I haven't been around
much for awhile, but I want y'all to know, that up here
in rock 'n' roll heaven, I'll be thinkin' of ya this
Christmas. And I'd like to give y'all a special
Christmas message- A message of peace....like, uh, how
bout a little piece of that pie goin' by? Thank you.
Thank ya vurry much.
(Silverware and plates begin clattering. It becomes
obvious that Elvis is sitting at a big banquet table in
heaven)
But like I was sayin', Christmas is a time o' hope, a
time of joy, a time for lovin'. And I sure would
love...a big slice of that pizza ya got there (chomp,
slurp) Thank you. Thank ya vurry much. Now where was I?
Oh yeah, Christmas. Now, Christmas to me means family.
And family means friends. And friends means gettin'
together. And gettin' together means...eatin'! Ah, pass
me that drumstick, would you please, Ah, thank you,
thank ya vurry much. (chomp, munch, burp)
Now I just want to say to ya right now, ya know, I may
be a big star- maybe too big. But ain't nobody so big
that he can't reach out a helpin' hand...a
helpin'...hand. Uh, would ya hand me a helpin' of those
mashed potaters over there? Would ya please? Thank you.
Thank ya vurry much. (slurp, munch) Now like I was
sayin', ain't nobody so big he can't stoop to help a
friend in need over the holiday season... And speakin'
of seasonin', ya wanna pass me that salt shaker when ya
get the chance? Yeah, just unscrew the cover, that's
right, thank ya, thank ya vurry much.
So this Christmas, why don't ya take a tip from ol'
Elvis....
No, no, leave those steak tips right where they are,
know what I mean? Yeah, I 'preciate it, thank ya. I
want ya to remember that we're all part o' God's great
big family. And you know God made man unto his own
image. And lookin' in the mirror, I'd have to say God
must be a big, big son of a gun. Y'know what I mean? I
think you do.
But I specially want you to remember this one last
thing.
When yer'all at home this Christmas, stringin' that
popcorn up on the tree, save a big, big bowl for The
King. Extra butter, y'know what I mean? I think you do.

ANNOUNCER:
Miss Turnstiles for June!
Every month, some lucky little New York miss is chosen
Miss Turnstiles for the month. She's got to be beautiful,
she's got to be just an average girl, and most important
of all she's got to ride the subway.
There are 5,683 women who ride the subway every day. And
which fortunate lassie will be chosen for the signal honor
this month?
She's beautiful, brilliant, average, a typical New Yorker...
IVY:
Who, me?
ANNOUNCER:
Yes, you! Ivy Smith!
(Ivy is chosen from a crowd of Manhattan girls
and adorned as Miss Turnstiles.)
She's a home-loving girl.
But she loves high society's whirl.
She adores the Army, the Navy as well,
At poetry and polo she's swell.
[The first of On the Town's ballets presents a satiric look at the glamorous reign of Miss Turnstiles. In front of a stage-sized blowup of her poster, we meet Ivy Smith here photographed, interviewed and wooed by the town's most eligible men.]
[Miss Turnstiles Dance]
[Ivy dances a pas de deux with a Home-loving Man, a Playboy, a Soldier, a Sailor and an Athlete - emphasizing her contradictory attributes. Folled by a pas de sept with them all.]
ANNOUNCER:
But of course at the end of each month a new Miss Turnstiles is chosen... and when that happens...
IVY:
Oh, dear!
[Ivy admirers disappear. She reluctantly rejoins the crowd of girls, and they exit.]
Riding into Manhattan on the subway. Gabey and his pals spot the poster announcing this month's Miss Turnstiles, Ivy Smith. Smitten, Gabey steals the poster as a grouchy old lady cries "Vandals!" She locates a cop and they take off after the escaping sailors, becoming the first in a line of pursuers that grows as the trio gets into further trouble.
Gabey is bent on finding Miss Turnstiles, but Chip balks at wasting any more of his precious 24 hours on chasing after Ivy Smith. When Ozzie reminds him that he wouldn't even be in New York if Gabey hadn't rescued them from drowning at sea not long before, the trio decides to look for Ivy, using clues from her personality sketch on the poster. But first, Ozzie and Chip give Gabey pointers in the art of courtship.

ANNOUNCER:
Ladies and gentlemen. the funky butt club is proud to
present that sepia symphonette, those crooning cavaliers,
those soulful seraphs of song
those five guys named Moe!
ALL:
We're the greatest band around
make the cats jump up and down
we're the talk of rhythm town
five guys named Moe, that's us!

Announcer:
Round 1, fight!
Tuba:
Now gather 'round kids, 'cause its time for a lesson,
Tuba's gonna clean up the filth you've been ingesting,
How do people go on living with ulterior wills
And possess inferior skills, still?
I can stand back handing out free samples,
Or prove that my rap reserve is ample,
Example: my rhymes are so sick that they're sippin' on Swanson,
'Cause I rock way harder than the actor Dwayne Johnson.
Rappers with beef get dried up like jerky,
'Cause their hustle is faker than a box of tofurkey.
My style is clumsy, drop beats like whoops!
Critics give me thumbs up like a Billy Mays salute.
Got my shine on tonight– designated entertainer,
Let's hope I don't lose it like my last three retainers.
Looking tight in white, fashion sense like the pope,
I'm King Fly-dias, anything I touch turns to dope.
Both:
Here (here) we (we) come with the dap rap,
Saving hip-hop from falling in the crap trap,
Dishing out hooks like a left-right slap jab,
Here (here) we (we) come with the dap rap.
Announcer:
Uppercut! Round 2! Fight!
Ev:
Back in the gum world and ready to teach a couple lessons,
So grab your pen and take some notes before I start progressing.
I needed a sick beat like this just to say how I felt,
I'm a sensei of the game while you're just a yellow belt.
So feel the funk, turn it up, and let your body rock,
Let me open up this style like I forgot to knock.
I stay clean with it like I just got out of the shower,
Look good in anything, I go 90 styles per hour.
I kick a brand new flavor in your ear,
And leave the rest of you to crash like you forgot how to steer,
'Cause I'm elementary with it– I'm so arts and crafty,
I am so proactive, I could probably cure acne.
I am so insane, I should be locked away,
But then all that's left is rappers fruity as sorbet,
Haters can choke on my words like small plastic parts,
Have a recall on my verse and take me off of the charts!
Both:
Here (here) we (we) come with the dap rap,
Saving hip-hop from falling in the crap trap,
Dishing out hooks like a left-right slap jab,
Here (here) we (we) come with the dap rap.
Announcer:
You lose. Round 3!
Both:
Here (here) we (we) come with the dap rap,
Saving hip-hop from falling in the crap trap,
Dishing out hooks like a left-right slap jab,
Here (here) we (we) come with the dap rap.
Announcer:
Perfect.

ANNOUNCER
People of Argenitna!
your newly elected president -- Juan Peron!
CROWD
Peron! Peron! ......
PERSON
Argentinos! Argentinos!
We are all leaders now!
Fighting against our common enemies,
Poverty
Social Injustice
Foreign domination of our industries
Reaching for our common goals
Our independence
Our dignity
Our pride
Let the world know that our great nation is awakening
And that its heart
Beats in the humble bodies
Of Juan Peron -- and
His wife, the first lady of Argentina,
Eva Duarte de Peron!
CROWD
Peron! Peron! ......
As a mere observer of this tasteless phenomenon
One has to admire the stage management
There again perhaps I'm more than a mere observer
Listen to my enthusiasm gentlemen
Peron! Peron! ......
CROWD

Announcer:
"lady's and gentlemen, the jimi hendrix experience."
Jimi:
"i see that we meet again hmmm. yeah well, well, well. dig,
dig, i'd like to get something strait, we ummm we got tired
of the experience, and every once in a while we're blowing
our minds too much, so we decided to change everything around.
and a call it 'gypsy sons and rianbows' for short nothin' but
a band of gypsies. we have billy cox playin' bass, and um from
nashville tennessee we have lary lee playin' guitar over there,
we got juma playin' congos over there, juma, and we have granny
goose, oh i'm sorry mitch mitchell on drums over there, and we
got jerry velez on congos too. you got yours truly on pete whistle,
what me worry? gives us about a minute and a half to tune up ok.
like we only had about two rehearsals so a we'll only do a primary
rhythm thing. (someone in the background) i have mine thank you

(announcer):
It is the interstellar light year two thousand and
zero-seven-nine megawatts
Today the supreme court faces the case of galactic
forces contra earthling
The charges are treason against the universal powers
(judge)
Silence in court
Silence in court
Call the first witness
(??? the robot)
(announcer):
Sire, his circuitry relays malfunction
Communication is nil
He feels something the earthings call love
(judge):
Witness, do you have anything to say?
(robot):
I am your automatic lover, automatic lover
(judge):
Thank you, thank you...
Earthling, what have you to say of these accusations?
(Dee D Jackson):
I´m the cosmic lady with the cosmic curves
I´m here to give you what you all deserve
I´m the cosmic lady with the cosmic curves
(audience):
Yes, we think she´s guilty, guilty, guilty
Yes, we think she´s guilty, guilty, guilty
(judge)
Silence in court
Silence in court
Call the second witness
(Meteor man, metor man)
(announcer):
Sire,he cannot rumble, he cannot tumble from the sky
All he can do is mumble something the earthlings call
love
(judge):
Witness, do you have anything to say?
(Metor man):
I... love... her... too...
(judge):
Thank you, thank you...
Earthling, what have you to say of these accusations?
(Dee D Jackson):
Well I´m the cosmic lady with the cosmic curves
I´m here to give you what you all deserve
I´m the cosmic lady with the cosmic curves
(audience):
Yes, we think she´s guilty, guilty, guilty
Yes, we think she´s guilty, guilty, guilty
(judge)
Silence, silence
The court calls Venus, the goddess
(Venus):
Who is this woman who calls herself Venus
It is I who is the goddess of love
She is an impostor and should be cast into infinity
(judge)
It is the judgement of the supreme court
that you should be banished forever into the black hole
(Dee D Jackson):
But I´m the cosmic lady with the cosmic curves
I´m here to give you what you all deserve
I´m the cosmic lady with the cosmic curves
(Dee D Jackson):
But I´m the cosmic lady with the cosmic curves
I´m here to give you what you all deserve