| One, two, one, two mic check respect
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| To the old school and new lest we forget
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| That we come along way through the pain and lovin'
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| To get that feelin' of freedom we wouldn’t change for nothin'
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| See I sprouted in the spring of 80's, sailed the seas for
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| A third world, home ship wrecked in Indonesia
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| Drifted to Virginia where my cargo like in a story
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| And I take you back without Donnie Darko in a delorean
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| I learnt to beat box mimicking P.G.C
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| You remember the titans but I never did C.T.C just
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| Public elementary the PTA called a stray noise
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| NWA tapes hidden under beds before playboys
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| In 92 I went down under but im like E. T
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| Cause no-one spoke this language cept' some dude in the B. E
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| See we found a baron just an excuse to cuss lots
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| But you damn right the only two dudes rappin at the bus stops
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| This is hip-hop, a sick man’s medicine
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| This blood, sweat, tears and love and adrenalin
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| And it just (And it just) gives me that feelin
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| (It just gives me that feelin')
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| This is hip-hop, a sick man’s medicine
|
| This blood, sweat, tears and love and adrenalin
|
| And it just (And it just) gives me that feelin
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| (It just gives me that feelin')
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| So from tryin' to stay up late to not sleepin' for days
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| Till my inner child smile when the reefer gets blazed
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| From crews that drift apart to mine that keeps shit in sync
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| From the girl that I love, to the peace that she brings
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| Cause her harmony’s the only thing that makes me behave
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| Hoping next month grows wings and takes me away
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| If only you could see this poet dance on his note pad
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| Oblivious to things I don’t have
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| Cause, music is everywhere, music is life
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| And to the rhythm of the tap drip music is mine
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| Music is yours
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| And you can feel it on tours
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| From trains to bus rides, down south to up north
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| May the force be with you
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| See this crew three fists full
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| Poetry with power, life I know it’s in the flowers is magic where my mind’s in
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| orbit
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| This brain’s a foster home and these rhymes are orphans
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| This is hip-hop, a sick man’s medicine
|
| This blood, sweat, tears and love and adrenalin
|
| And it just (And it just) gives me that feelin
|
| (It just gives me that feelin')
|
| This is hip-hop, a sick man’s medicine
|
| This blood, sweat, tears and love and adrenalin
|
| And it just (And it just) gives me that feelin
|
| (It just gives me that feelin')
|
| We gotta, live for the minute die for the culture
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| Young at heart but only gettin' older
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| Lord knows ill never put the mic down
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| Let’s go we’ll make it happen right now
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| Live for the minute die for the culture
|
| Young at heart but only gettin' older
|
| Lord knows ill never put the mic down
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| Let’s go we’ll make it happen right now
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| I got a lot to give, but I gotta live
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| So we win of this mic man is my prerogative
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| This game is ill so I’m just livin' for the minute
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| Can’t play life from the bench man you gotta get up in it
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| And its all worth it
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| From the page where my lead roams
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| So touch any spirit
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| When I fed poems to wet foams
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| Workin' in the mud but yo I’m dreamin' in the clouds
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| And shit I can feel your love when you’re screamin' out loud
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| It goes hip-hop, a sick man’s medicine
|
| This blood, sweat, tears and love and adrenalin
|
| And it just (And it just) gives me that feelin
|
| (It just gives me that feelin')
|
| This is hip-hop, a sick man’s medicine
|
| This blood, sweat, tears and love and adrenalin
|
| And it just (And it just) gives me that feelin
|
| (It just gives me that feelin')
|
| Oh heeeeeeey
|
| Oh heeeeeeey
|
| Oh heeeeeeey
|
| Oh heeeeeeey
|
| Oh heeeeeeey
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| Oh heeeeeeey
|
| Oh heeeeeeey
|
| Oh heeeeeeey |