[scratching of] (Pump me up) The walls start shakin as my rhymes begin Like a chiller or a thriller from beginnin to end You know a song enough to make the London Bridge fall Mistake us for a king at a masquerade ball My microphone mechanics give me superstar status When I make my space in the place you're glad it's Me, the E-x-a-c-t And Precise so nice bustin rhymes with me Now Exact's on my back when I speak my words Takin out ill s**ers like the neighborhood nerd I'm stone cold def all around the way Vocalist supreme, you can call me M.J. n**y-not Michael Jackson but I'm still thrillin Girlies on my jock, I'm stone cold chillin Servin sap s**ers while I'm livin on the edge When I polish ya off I don't even need pledge It's a fact and exact when I start to tack The whole pack on crack, takin out the wack Now my beat is pumpin, the girlies are jumpin I'm [?]climbin to the throne[?] and it's you I'm thumpin Instead of you walkin you should be runnin To buy my record cause it's so damn stunnin When you hear it pump it up, pick up the pace Yo M.J. (pump that ba**) [scratching of] (Pump me up) I'm definitely def, dope, damage the dumbs Speakin slick [?]slang[?], supervisin the [?]slums[?] Pumpin up the volume, turnin out the party Cold gettin fly on a bottle of Bacardi The beat [?]ain't no[?] discrete, just a thunderous boom Like a tear gas bomb cold clearin the room And so it's happened, your head's movin back and forth I'm takin a stand like Oliver North Now Exact's poppin facts and a little bit of fiction I'm releasin rhymes with my double-def diction I'm stylin and smilin, rhymin harder than hell I'm the professor, you're the student, so I'm rining the bell I'm not believin I'm receivin all the rhymes that I've heard To you wack MC's I'm shootin the birds Instead of pa**in the j and smokin the dust Just pump up the volume and rock with us Like this [scratching of] (Pump me up) Mr. Ed's a rock 'n roller on the hip-hop scene The rhymes that I write, I write em in Queens Take the Q-111 e train and relax On my way to the city where I put it on wax If you're lame and you ain't with the program Call Freddie Jackson to sing you a slow jam Put it in drive, the crew has arrived There's no doubt about it, the party is live Now my rhymes are so def that they can't even hear Even with the hearin aid in they ear The beat is so dope it'll make you high Like a junkie gettin funky then wonderin why I bust a rhyme every time I'm given a chance The beat is pumpin and jumpin, invitin you to dance The show is on the go and the crowd is hype You're jammin and slammin and the Boys are white So bust that [scratching of] (Pump me up)