| Way back in the days before the age of gold chains and fat fades
|
| When Zulu Nation was still called the Black Spades
|
| A fetus was formed, a genius was born
|
| Adidas was worn, and pieces of your speakers was torn
|
| I used to fiend for mics like an addict with rocks
|
| The baddest on blocks who’d rock 'til the static would stop
|
| Herbs beatin' me with words was absurd
|
| Like traffic cops who cock semi-automatic Glocks to pop
|
| Stetsasonic was hot, Kwame was not
|
| I wore out the shell tops that copped when Planet Rock dropped
|
| From Ultramag MC’s to JB’s to BDP and KMD, I learned to MC
|
| Crumple it up, scratch it out, think it over
|
| Spit it over and over the instrumental of The Bridge Is Over
|
| I was funky fresh, dressed to impress
|
| Got it made with the words that I manifest
|
| Never dismantle the best, give your mandibles a rest
|
| I eat mics I bless, like a cannibal with flesh
|
| Still number one like It’s KRS
|
| With my whole name written across my chest
|
| And it goes, «A» for accurate, «P» for poetry
|
| «A» for the automatic respect you’re showin' me
|
| «T» for the tight lyrics and «H» 'cause shit is hot
|
| And last but not least, «Y»… Why not!
|
| With the kicks, snares, kicks and hi hats
|
| Skilled in the trade of that ol' boom bap
|
| With the kicks, snares, kicks and hi hats
|
| Skilled in the trade of that ol' boom bap
|
| With the kicks, snares, kicks and hi hats
|
| Skilled in the trade of that ol' boom bap
|
| With the kicks, snares, kicks and hi hats
|
| Skilled in the trade of that ol' boom bap
|
| Let’s meet up in the Bronx with Cyrus for a meeting
|
| Before he started speaking, they blasted him leaving him bleeding
|
| And everybody running, searching for escape
|
| Twenty years later I’m makin' moves trying to push a demo tape
|
| And it’s relative, this hip-hop scene is too negative
|
| Amped up and wild, take a sedative
|
| Back in the past when Grandmaster Flash started to scratch
|
| They perfected the art of the raps
|
| Taking a part of the wax, make it the heart of the track
|
| Now it’s a part of the past, all of it’s wack, fuck lacing a DAT
|
| I’d rather lace my Adidas, the beat is taking it back
|
| To the breaking and graf, punchlines that made us laugh
|
| Dookie gold chains and four-finger rings to match
|
| Mercedes Benz on medallions and Kangol hats
|
| Even Big Daddy Kane had the hoes to sex
|
| Pete Rock and CL Smooth with the pose on the Lex
|
| Tommy Hilfiger, Girbauds and Polo sets
|
| B-boy stance while waiting for your foes to flex
|
| Photos with Gucci airbrush backdrops
|
| Cardboard box on blacktops and the birth of fat spots
|
| Melle had to wonder why he kept from going under
|
| But the strength of hip-hop got stronger every summer
|
| With the kicks, snares, kicks and hi hats
|
| Skilled in the trade of that ol' boom bap
|
| With the kicks, snares, kicks and hi hats
|
| Skilled in the trade of that ol' boom bap
|
| With the kicks, snares, kicks and hi hats
|
| Skilled in the trade of that ol' boom bap
|
| With the kicks, snares, kicks and hi hats
|
| Skilled in the trade of that ol' boom bap
|
| Demigodz (Skilled in the trade of that old boom bap)
|
| Stronghold (Skilled in the trade of that old boom bap)
|
| Majik Most (Skilled in the trade of that old boom bap)
|
| Dutch Massive (Skilled in the trade of that old boom bap)
|
| Jedi Mind Tricks (Skilled in the trade of that old boom bap)
|
| J-Zone (Skilled in the trade of that old boom bap)
|
| The Non Prophets (Skilled in the trade of that old boom bap)
|
| Guy and Gaston (Skilled in the trade of that old boom bap)
|
| My man JUICE (Skilled in the trade of that old boom bap)
|
| Black Panther (Skilled in the trade of that old boom bap)
|
| Akrobatik (Skilled in the trade of that old boom bap)
|
| DJ Mek (Skilled in the trade of that old boom bap)
|
| The Molemen (Skilled in the trade of that old boom bap)
|
| Eddie Ill and DL (Skilled in the trade of that old boom bap)
|
| We out, uh… |