[Sample: "Have you heard it? Sing along.
If you didn't hear it you're gonna hear it right now."]
[Slug]
Bam, the door way opened for me
I saw ways and told the story
Raw day dreams of holding glory
Junior high,
Hall way king
Lockin' faggot MCs
Beat boxin', breakin' Zulu Nation wannabees
It didn't take long to see who would stay strong
High school upon
Some B-Boys put their gang bangs on
But some kept on doing
Step on to ruin
Others that were pursuing the same shit we thought we ruled in
But what a surprise
The passion for being the best
Puts a quest for allies to rest
Dead
In the Midwest where heads
Is just a hand full
In a land of gangstas
Players, replacements, priests, banjos
We scramble
To break MCs that may appreciate it
Guided by their envy insecurity and their hatred
Separated by the gimmie props technique
And a desire to be the tops this week
I gotta floss the speak
Cause talk is cheap
Even the broke kids can afford it
That's why I stand close and if you're dope then I'm supportive
But if not
We'll keep the mic warm
For the next one
Respect the artform
And make your wishes on the stars born
Within the movement
Fact checkin' tryin' to completely avoid all channels of backstepping
From the lines of paint on the concrete
They reside on Lake Street
To the way we close our eyes to sleep
And drift through Deep Space 9 type shit
To find this
I've been around for as long as sound
I've been to that not so fresh faze
And that not so serious state but I've evolved
Metamorphed manifestate
I used to be young, dumb and full of vision
Like it was religious rituals
I made initial decisions
I wanted to be a rapper world renown
From Minneap to the Bronx
Capture girls in crowns
Snap, crackle and stomp
That's what I found
The abyss that sits in-between the one tha
