Lyrics:
Ooooh. Let's talk music
One day, you're young and you wanna try something new
You get an instrument and a thing to get used to
Before you know it,
of my homies stuck in the pen for life or losin' it
Call up your folks you keep thinkin' about home
Recorder keeps a peep and there's a block
as fast as I could
By the sound of the voice I new it couldn't be good
In front of Royal Sounds I heard the news,
Mix was gone and the Uncle's getting sued
they got moved by these hard-rock Brooklyn kids
Us flow a rush when the DJ's boomin classics
You dig the crew on the fattest hip hop records
He touch
Under the branches, con-vertibles fly by
The sky..
[Pharoahe Monch]
..blue, fields green
Paints a picture that creates a scene
of the destiny that
Here come the jams, yo punks, guard your domes
It's the man with the mad new styles and funky poems
So strike one, strike two, strike three, you're
studied rhymes
(from the greats)
By age twelve I was digging in the
Crates for tapes to rock to
Like Funky Drummеr by James Brown
It was nothin' more
Well I came here for something funky to happen
Is this Christmas 'cause everybody's rappin
You better get sparked by the song that I sing
Although my
[Big Gipp talking]
Hello what's happening world?
Yo this Big Gipp I've been called down
By Lil' Jon & The Eastside Boyz
To tell you what's really
of my homies stuck in the pen for life or losin' it
Call up your folks you keep thinkin' about home
Recorder keeps a peep and there's a block
Some guys by the braai playing Dominoes go (Go Donny don go Donny don go)
God my head's fried I've got the red eyes
Little kids running around way after
shit everyday, peace to niggaz around my way
From Da Bricks, where every block it got mad crews
MC El Da Sensai with the attack of New Jeruz
Tonedeff
"New York City" - C-Rayz Walz
Peace, this is Afrika Bambaataa with my
Brother DJ JS-1 as he rock
Shock your funky mind one more time one
Time for
the bread
Sheek, Zeke, Hell Rell
And I got some in the Feds
I contradict what ever the government says
For them boys on my back wit
Them bugs by my bed
They
your block ,you look like Cheerios
Skrrttt off ina vette ,waving bye adios
Pussy
I bet you scared now
You can Tell by my face we ain't gone play around
I spit bars you’ll turn pale
New school emcees be featherweights on scales
Ya’ll frail and so is yo rhyme schemes
It’s cheap yo technics weak by all
Nautica que siguen a la pesca
Otro dolar otro mes
Baldazos de agua fría sobre el Gore tex
Depressed feat mis Findes remix by Funky flex
Hay algo en estos
your dial on 187
Now, some new music by some
Homeboys out of South Central here's ATL
And they called this one livin' like hustlers
Let me start it off,
or alive, born to survive
Block kid hangin' out the window just like Pac did
Screamin' Westside, fellowshipin
Anointed like magic, Don Juan Bishop
It's
cougars
What the fuck?
Need me a bitty look like Coi Leray
Trying to have a D1 bound kid today
Hopped on the beat like Babyface Ray
Make them get funky just
of Conan O'Brien
Where he was doing backflips for the kids
Who threw coins given to them by their parents
A visiting lecturer
Achingly handsome had
knocking at your door
So open up let me in lets get nasty if you want to
I'll freak dat butt like a filt by Heather Hunter
Touch you touch you I might
with love, still gettin money
Surrounded by hate, vibes too funky
Made mistakes, I feel like a dummy
I think about death
I think about stress
Been
sprayed by the kids who survived
the playground, of the steel
Who used a fat and funky, as a sort of shiv
Deal to the crew that rolls in batallions
If water
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