Jam Master Jay drops the needle on a fresh slab of vinyl, scratching in a sharp, chirping sound. "It’s tricky," he mutters, focused on the mixer. Run stops dead. "What did you say?"
Run looks at D.M.C. A grin spreads across his face. He grabs the mic, the cord trailing behind him like a tail. run_dmc_its_tricky
They have the beat—a heavy, distorted guitar riff sampled from The Knack’s "My Sharona"—but the lyrics aren't clicking. Run pace the floor, his Adidas Superstars squeaking against the linoleum. Jam Master Jay drops the needle on a
"This speech is my recital, I think it's very vital..." he starts, his voice staccato and commanding. "What did you say
D.M.C. jumps in without missing a beat, his booming baritone providing the anchor: "To rock (a rhyme), that's right (on time), 'It's Tricky' is the title, here we go!"