My Gen X Playlist: Ice Ice Baby – Vanilla Ice

I threw my back out the other day. It’s the first time I’ve done this in decades. Back when I was in my twenties, I threw it out lifting a heavy object. My dad would always remind me, Use your legs, not your back. Fatherly advice you hear on a loop but rarely pay attention to. It’s the first thing I thought about when my back gave out.

Back then, I hurt my back lifting something pretty massive. Common sense says I should have hurt my back. It was stupid for me to even try. People nodded along and shook their heads at the same time when hearing my war story.

This time was different. I got hurt lifting a box of nothing. It was completely empty. I was at a funny angle crammed between my car, the wall and the garbage cans. All of a sudden I was doubled over in pain. And let me repeat, it was a box of literally nothing. If I’m going to get injured lifting something, for heaven’s sake, let it be something that’s story-worthy. When people ask, I vaguely mumble lifting a box and let them assume what they want to assume. The male ego is a fragile thing.

I was an athlete growing up and had my share of injuries, so I knew to ice it. I was in real pain and at times immobile. I needed to numb it and bring down the inflammation. My wife warned I might get freezer burn if the ice packs weren’t properly wrapped. I nodded, yeah, yeah. Of course, I thought I knew better. Who needs to wrap ice packs? Isn’t it colder when there isn’t anything in between? I iced it every waking hour for seven days straight. Finally it started coming around and I could move unhindered again. What a relief.

And for the record, I did get freezer burn. I never knew that was an actual thing. Now I have this discolored reminder on my back to memorialize my empty box injury. I’ve also gained a second bit of advice that may play on a loop. Be careful with the ice packs. You might get freezer burns. While my male ego can be fragile, I’m able to admit when I’m wrong. Chalk this one up to my wife.

I’m embarrassed. Yes, I like this song. Not enough to search it out to listen to. Not enough that I have this CD in my collection. And not enough to confess to friends or family. But if I hear it randomly, I’ll privately sing along or bob my head when no one is looking. Thank god this blog is anonymous. Otherwise, I would have chosen Foreigner’s Cold as Ice, instead. Who else likes Vanilla Ice’s Ice Ice Baby?

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For a complete playlist, please click here.

For the Spotify playlist, please click here.

Yo VIP, let's kick it

Ice, ice, baby
Ice, ice, baby

Alright stop, collaborate and listen
Ice is back with the brand new invention
Something grabs a hold of me tightly
Flow like a harpoon daily and nightly
"Will it ever stop?" Yo, I don't know
Turn off the lights, huh, and I'll glow
To the extreme, I rock a mic like a vandal
Light up a stage and wax a chump like a candle
Dance, rush the speaker that booms
I'm killing your brain like a poisonous mushroom
Deadly when I play a dope melody
Anything less than the best is a felony
Love it or leave it, you better gangway
You better hit the bullseye, the kid don't play
And if there was a problem, yo, I'll solve it
Check out the hook while my DJ revolves it

Ice, ice, baby
Vanilla Ice, ice, baby
Vanilla Ice, ice, baby
Vanilla Ice, ice, baby

Now that the party is jumpin'
With the bass kicked in and the Vegas are pumpin'
Quick to the point, to the point, no fakin'
Cookin' MCs like a pound of bacon
Burnin' 'em if you're not quick and nimble
I go crazy when I hear a cymbal
And a hi-hat with a souped up tempo
I'm on a roll, it's time to go solo
Rollin' in my 5.0
With the ragtop down so my hair can blow
The girlies on standby, wavin' just to say hi
"Did you stop?" No, I just drove by
Kept on, pursuin' to the next stop
I busted a left and I'm headin' to the next stop
The block was dead, yo, so I continued to
A1A Beachfront Avenue
Girls were hot wearing less than bikinis
Rockman lovers driving Lamborghinis
Jealous, 'cause I'm out getting mine
Shay with a gauge and Vanilla with a 9
Ready for the chumps on the wall
The chumps acting ill because they're full of eight ball
Gunshots raged out like a bell
I grabbed my 9, all I heard were shells
Falling on the concrete real fast
Jumped in my car, slammed on the gas
Bumper to bumper, the avenue's packed
I'm trying to get away before the jackers jack
Police on the scene, you know what I mean?
They passed me up, confronted all the dope fiends
If there was a problem, yo, I'll solve it
Check out the hook while my DJ revolves it

Ice, ice, baby
Vanilla Ice, ice, baby
Vanilla Ice, ice, baby
Ice, ice, baby

Take heed 'cause I'm a lyrical poet
Miami's on the scene just in case you didn't know it
My town that created all the bass sound
Enough to shake and kick holes in the ground
'Cause my style's like a chemical spill
Feasible rhymes that you can vision and feel
Conducted and formed, this is a hell of a concept
We make it hype and you want to step
With this. Shay plays on the fade
Slice like a ninja, cut like a razor blade
So fast, other DJs say, "Damn!"
If rhyme was a drug I'd sell it by the gram
Keep my composure when it's time to get loose
Magnetized by the mic while I kick my juice
If there was a problem yo I'll solve it
Check out the hook while my DJ revolves it

Ice ice, baby
Vanilla Ice, ice, baby
Vanilla Ice, ice, baby
Ice ice, baby
Vanilla Ice

Yo man, let's get out of here
Word to your mother
Ice, ice, baby (Too cold)
Ice, ice, baby (Too cold)
Ice, ice, baby (Too cold)
Ice, ice, baby (Too cold, too cold)
Ice, ice, baby (Too cold, too cold)
Ice, ice, baby (Too cold, too cold)
Ice