Lyrics:
control"
"Hip-hop is not, what it is today.."
"It's the real... it's the (militia)"
If heads only knew how I felt about the rap game
They'd
the world, I was on the front raw
Run DMC show me what I wanna be
I got kicked up studio by Kool Moe Dee
The coat cross four in the tretch terrastry [?]
Give
to buy and sell 'em
You always wearing denim but your body full of venom
Keep on rolling shit down with me
Uptown to Venice, cooking tracks the chemist
cryin later
We love hip-hop, because WE are it's creators
So we, build the Temple, write the books, teach the classes
Create instrumentals, write hooks
Excuse me
It's recording?
(Said it's the real)
(Hip hop)
Uh
Yeah
Yeah
Look
Another night, I'm consumed by the rage and the pains
Of a nigga bout
We're raised by gunshots and low life in hip-hop
Do you rock or do you get locked
In fights with glocks?
We come from psycho cities and blocks
Will
to the back,
To the hip, to the hop, to the rhyme, to the rap.
Every single line out o'da time you admire,
Stays in your brain like earth, within a fire.
I
a track I can't crack or tackle
I get up on the mic they be like holy mackerel
Where this bul come from
I never heard nobody rhyme like that before
You want
Spitacular
There's not a track I can't crack or tackle
I get up on the mic they be like holy mackerel
Where this bul come from
I never heard nobody rhyme like
some Pepto-Bismol
To the hip to the hop you just don't stop
On the microphone is where I rock
Sucker MC's talkin' all that stuff
Party people let me
your phone up
Don’t talk back because when I’m on the track I’m better so you better own up
You think you’re a mighty eagle
Your ego is bigger than every
hip hop
Verse after verse climb up to the top beat getting polished it’s ready to drop
Dhok is here but I ain't a doctor feeling responsible for me
(prize)
So baby don’t come cryin’ to me,
That all these rappers wanna do is stack dimes,
What’s up with making tracks like they used to be,
I’m tired
Now people dey listen to em
Come for our shows and clap for em
Some dey take am to the next level with hip hop forums
From Nigeria the world only know
healthy
And you know I done hung with the wealthy
And I done hung with the poor, I take lessons listen to what they tell me
Talk to god he be giving me
I'm an extremist (huh) who shake tracks the meanest
I'm what a hip-hop fiend is
[Chorus]
[Keith Murray]
Yeah, I also walk in gutta, reppin my clique
out about laws flaws
You´re wrong if you thought hip-hop was a lost cause
Catch me working on clever skills in language classes
‘Til I’m back to rap
track, bring it back, tell me what you
Think about that
Boys trynna holla, but I ain't having that
You better have game, you better come correct
Ya
wise, civilized in hip hop rhyme, from a black mind
To kicking it to you all the time
As-salam, you like a more a peace sign
Represents my way life
And the lyrical attack is where my ammo is at
Now they call me Rage 'cause I rush and come down like a hammer
Live rhythm get driven by vocal vehicular grammar
can't stop the hip-hop
Shoot 'em up, bang bang
Another body drops, you can't stop the head nod
Shoot 'em up, bang bang
Another body drops, you can't
rapping since before it was acceptable
Back when then had congressional hearing led by tipper gore
Now look at hip hop, it's respectable
To myself stayed
the hip-hop dean
If Russia bombed the U.S., they'd be scared to touch Queens
Cause that's where I live, and this is what I give
Turnin' top-notch crews
the tarp, sir
I'm growin' weed for my mama there
I've got a paved driveway and photos in the hallway of me on my Harley
And I did it my way
See, hip-hop
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