[Sample: "Have you it? Sing along. If you didn't hear it you're gonna hear it now."]
Bam, the door way for me I saw ways and the story Raw day dreams of glory high, Hall way faggot MCs Beat boxin', breakin' Zulu Nation It didn't take long to see who stay strong High upon B-Boys put their gang bangs on But kept on doing Step on to Others that were pursuing the same shit we we ruled in But a surprise The passion for the best Puts a quest for allies to In the where heads Is a hand full In a land of Players, replacements, priests, We To break MCs may appreciate it by their envy insecurity and their hatred Separated by the gimmie props And a desire to be the tops week I floss the speak talk is cheap Even the broke can afford it That's why I stand close and if dope then I'm supportive But if not keep the mic warm For the one the artform And make your on the stars born
the movement Fact checkin' tryin' to completely avoid all of backstepping From the of paint on the concrete reside on Lake Street To the way we our eyes to sleep And drift through Deep Space 9 type To this I've been around for as long as been to that not so fresh faze And that not so serious state but evolved Metamorphed
I to be young, dumb and full of vision Like it was religious I made initial I wanted to be a world renown Minneap to the Bronx Capture in crowns Snap, and stomp That's what I The abyss that sits in-between the one that holds the mic and those don't even Formed some Rocked shows at schools Saturdays on the 18 make my way down to the pool I met a grip of people was bullshit Was with a lot of people that was bullshit But I pull shit from the asshole of an angel before I let him and The triangle between me the mic and the turntable to studios We want to demos We want to do and rock our own instrumentals Do our own Fuckin' with this kid Kazir Nitwit Barely his own equipment, Atmosphere The prefix was Wrecked Made friends made Overall we made And right now as I sit here this I'm buggin' off the people in my life that made me like
Within the checkin' Tryin' to completely avoid all of backsteppin' From the of painted concrete that on Franklin Ave To the dead on the elevator To that short in cross fader I never got later For efforts to Just your hands up in the air like a leper been to that not so fresh faze And to that not so serious state manifestate
Well it rings and I don't answer it it no asterisks No to find the circumstances It was in me deep It was and it grew it sleep and nutrition It was efficient let it There are a few have developed when I let them in my spectrum For the of em I give them just to cause infection Not trippin' on But if you ? welcome Open arms charms I know the and I can spell them is it When one Do they leave with this In fact most begin crave the me to the table That's it no no less The love the the stress Slug, the mic, the Yes, I've been and I've tested some I'm not I'm the best I'm not Like the of em Just I'm better than you That's my mind My rhymes take me I check one two I some do get pissed But intentions were to Built the before I get tired The ones that me down don't know it But they're the same ones that me Now in your head say, "Yes you can feel me."
[Sample: "Asking himself, even before the curtain up, what am I? I am now 80 years old, and more, and I am to find precisely what I am, what I to. They tell me I am everything, they flatter me everyday, of my life. I am now going to subject myself to a test in order to find out really I am. I don't care about FREEDOM? I don't about rule, anymore. It is of no to me, as such, but I must find out I am before I die."]