My Bass Rocks

From the beginning, Ghostface has always sprinkled his verses with bits of non-sensical content.  That is a large part of his appeal to many of his hard core fans.  Sure, its nice when he focuses and comes up with stuff that makes sense (although most of the time that means he’ll be spitting some mildly innapropriate come-on raps for the ladies). 

I think part of the reason Big Doe Rehab didnt do as well as he had hoped was that it was too straightforward.  There was nothing for us to decode, so it got tossed out of rotation as soon as the beats got old.  His clarity was probably a result of his giving up drugs (i cant fault him there, he saw what happened to Dirty).  Sherm definitley played a role in the brilliance of his nonsense.  On the song Nutmeg, Ghost is probably making the least sense he ever has (here he was probably on more PCP than a week old cadaver).  It is also one of his best verses.  

I think the reason it works is that he is not constrained by logic, concept, or meaning.  When he shuns those things, it opens him up to be able to focus on cadence, bizzare slang, and rhyme patterns all of which are his strong suits.  Supreme Clientele was the peak of his nonsense, and I will always pine for more of it, but what are you gonna do.  Anyhoo, here is the audio with the lyrics for the first verse following… 

Scientific, my hand kissed it
Robotic let’s think optimistic
You probably missed it, watch me dolly dick it
Scotty watty cop it to me, big microphone hippie
Hit Poughkepsie crispy chicken verbs throw up a stone richie
Chop the O, sprinkle a lil’ snow inside a Optimo
Swing the John McEnroe, rap rock’n'roll
Tidy Bowl, gung-ho pro, Starsky with the gumsole
Hit the rump slow, parole kids, live Rapunzel
but Ton’ stizzy really high, the vivid laser eye guide
Jump in the Harley ride, Clarks I freak a lemon pie
I’m bout it, bout it - Lord forgive me, Ms. Sally shouted
Tracey got shot in the face, my house was overcrowded
You fake cats done heard it first
On how I shitted on your turf
that time, Cuban Link verse yo
Check out the rap kingpin, summertime fine jewelry drippin
Face in the box, I seen your ear twitchin
As soon as I drove off, Cap’ came to me with three sawed-offs
Give one to Rae’, let’s season they broth
Lightning rod fever heaters, knock-kneeder Sheeba for hiva
Diva got rocked from the receiver bleeder
Portfolio, lookin fancy in the pantry
My man got bigger dimes son, your shit is scampi
Base that, throw what’s in your mouth, don’t waste that
See Ghost lampin in the throne with King Tut hat
Straight off