Way Out West

Way Out West from way back east

Coming from a place you'd expect the least

There came a stranger, dressed in black

From a Harlem Town, a long way back

Had a Stetson hat with a band of gold

Eyes like steel, make your blood run cold

Had a microphone hanging by his side

Just ready to be amplified

Rode into town on a big black steed

Lookin' for a man named Ganamede

"I hear the dude just won't get down

If I rock this world I can rock this town!"

And when they asked him for his name

He said "Kurtis Blow, I play the rappin' game

I can do the do, I can do the deed

And tonight I'm gonna rock Ganamede!"

Now Ganamede thought he was cool

Wore Gucci shoes, had a fancy school

A fancy job in a big corporation

Fancy girls all across the nation

Fancy car, fancy clothes,

Fancy friends and fancy dough

Only one thing he wouldn't do

Is let himself get down with you

The stranger went to the old saloon

Grabbed his mike and spun a tune

And everyone in the whole darn place

Said "Do the rap and set that pace!"

He rapped 'em down and he rapped 'em out

He made 'em dance and he made 'em shout

He said "If you like Kurtis Blow

Then let me hear you all say...

A say ho-oo! Ho-oo!

Hi-yo! Hi-yo!

Say Kurtis! Kurtis!

Say Kurtis Blow! Kurtis Blow!

At midnight Ganamede came in

To watch the dancers move and spin

He took a seat over by the bar

And started smokin' a big cigar

"I admit the stranger is not bad

But tonight I'm gonna make him sad

'Cause I don't care about the groove

There ain't no dude gonna make me move!"

The joint was jumpin' hard at one

But Ganamede was havin' none

Things were really fly at two

The stranger rapped and the tension grew

But Ganamede maintained his cool

"I'll make the stranger play the fool

'Cause I don't care about the groove

There ain't no dude gonna make me move!"

The showdown came at three o'clock

The stranger said, "I'm gonna make you rock

I'm gonna make you move, I'm gonna make you dance,

They're gonna take you out in an ambulance

Now everybody lend a hand

I'm gonna make you be the band

There ain't no jive, no superstition

We're gonna have a little demolition

Get down!

Now stomp your feet

To the funky beat

Just clap your hands

And let the beat expand

Let me here the bass

Put it in my face

Let the guitar play

Just put it away

And now I think we've got the groove

So Ganamede, get up and move!"

Now everyone looked at the bar

At the lonely man with the big cigar

He began to move, he began to shake

He'd had as much as he could take

He took his body to the floor

And then the crowd began to roar

The stranger just had done the deed

And rocked the house with Ganamede.

From three to four he couldn't stop

From four to five he just had to rock

From five to six he let it loose

At seven he still had the juice

At eight o'clock he was goin' strong

Gettin' down with every song

At nine o'clock he couldn't dance

And someone called an ambulance

As they put him in the back

Of that big white shiny Cadillac

He said "Please get me Kurtis Blow

There's something that he ought to know"

He said "I thought I'd make my name

By beatin' you at the rappin' game

But you beat me fair and square

And anyway, I just don't care."

The stranger asked him what he meant

Said Ganamede, "I am content

I never used to catch a groove

I never used to dance or move

But it's more fun to play the fool

Than tryin' hard to be real cool

So anytime you're back in town

I'm gonna get up and I'm gonna get down!"

The stranger watched him drive away

Knowing what he'd done that day

And then he went right back inside

To make the dancers slip and slide

To rock 'em out, to rock 'em in,

To make 'em rock it down again

And he said "If you like my sound

Let me hear you all say...

Throw down! Throw down!

At the showdown! At the showdown!

Throw down! Throw down!

At the showdown! At the showdown!

Now stomp your feet

To the funky beat

Just clap your hands

And let the beat expand

Let me here the bass

Put it in my face

Let the guitar play

Just put it away

A-rock on!