Classical Rap, S. 1-2-3

Pieces referenced:
 * Handel, Hallelujah Chorus from The Messiah
 * Johann Pachelbel, Canon in D
 * Vivaldi, Violin Concerto in E, RV 269 ("Spring" Concerto from The Seasons)

Lyrics
So anyway, now hear the sound

Of the very best rapper for miles around

Yes, I'm the fellow who's where it's at

There's absolutely no denying that

Yes I'm the apex, I'm the best

I'm considerably better than all the rest

The acme, the zenith, the tippest of the top

The nec plus ultra the hippest of the hop

The summit, the pinnacle, the highest of the high

The apogee of rappers, that's I

Well I'm doing pretty well for myself right now

I'm pulling down about eighty thou

My wife make forty, she's a Vassar grad

And hey, for a woman, that's not half bad

So we're talking six figures here

But there's one thing I want to make crystal clear

I have to laugh and I have to scoff

When I hear people calling us well off

Anyone who thinks that we're sitting pretty

Doesn't know what it's like in the big bad city

You've got to buy your apartment but the mortgage will be

A mere pittance compared to the maintenance fee

To get a lightbulb changed in the hall

Takes twenty-seven men, it's a union call

The doorman, the mailman, the sanitation crew

The parking attendant and the cleaning lady, too

The super and his helpers, they all get tips

And then we've got to talk about the memberships

The book club, the wine club the health club fees

The fruit of the month club and the one for cheese

The opera subscription, the museum and the zoo

The Sierra Club, the ACLU

There's the magazines to which you must subscribe

There's the plumbing inspector that you have to bribe

There's the parking space you have to rent or buy

There's the country house for the month of July

You will never have money, you can never relax

With the federal, state and city income tax

And you can't do your own return, oh no

You might end up paying what you owe

Hey, I'm no Bonnie and I'm no Clyde

I'm just trying to get along on the (unh!) Upper West Side

Now anyone will tell you that you're a fool

If you don't send your kids to a private school

And no one living here would even think

Of trying to get along without seeing a shrink

A yoga class every other day

Helps chase the subway blues away

Not to mention the blues from the doctor bills

And the root canals and the various pills

Your daughter takes flute and dancing, too

Your son takes piano, guitar and kung fu

The baby's allergic to cotton, not silk

The cat can only drink gerbil milk

A babysitter here if she's got half a brain

Can make more money than the governor of Maine

OK, I know, that's not hard to do

But I think my message is getting through

You've got a lot to lose, you've got a lot to hide

When you're trying to get along on the (unh!) Upper West Side

On Sundays, to give my wife a treat

The kids and I used to hit the street

We'd grab some donuts and head for the park

Sometimes we wouldn't come back 'till dark

Well that was only fair, I freely acknowledge

But hey, now our kids are both in college

Yet here I am still out on the street

Soaking up rain and killing my feet

By walking this dog all over the place

So my wife can have her precious space

''Is this high noon? I'm Gary Cooper?''

Facing the world with a pooper scooper?

In New York City, they always say,

You can get anything any time of day

But you're looking at a man who can't get what he wants

Zabar's is out of chocolate croissants

The book review was missing from the Times

The Korean market is out of limes

The pool hall here closed up last week

To make room for another ice cream boutique

You don't know a thing about suffering and pain

If you haven't tried to catch a taxi in the rain

And you can wait for a bus half an hour or more

'Cause they like to travel in gangs of four

Your folks come to town, you want to take in a show

Hey, you should have bought your tickets a year ago

Seeing foreign films was a hobby of mine

But now you pay a fortune to stand in line

To get in a theater that seats twenty-nine

And listen to Vivaldi one more time

Well the time has come to say au revoir

I promised I'd move my sister's car

My end, so to speak, begins

With an interlocking theme in the violins

Sounds pretty good, but a little bare

Let's get the violas in there

Now cellos and basses, in you go

It's time to add the continuo

Well that's about it, that's how it ends

But remember this, my provincial friends,

You may think you're knowedgeable, but you're not

In fact, you don't know diddly-squat

So don't go judging carelessly

If you lived here you'd be just like me

I've got no shame, but I've got my pride

I'm just trying to get along on the Upper Upper Upper West Side

Upper Upper Upper West Side

Upper Upper Upper West Side