| Slappers, kick push, boogie board
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| Punch drunk, punch kick, super hard
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| Bruce Lee, Spike Lee, broken nose
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| Pop’s home, pop’s gone, broken home
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| Live Aid, A-Team, fly like Mike
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| Recess, schoolbooks, dynamite
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| Backpack, headphones, BDP
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| Ice Cube, Fresh Prince, MTV
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| It was mixtapes, spray cans, subway trains
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| It was black books, sparklers and halls of fame
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| It was shell toe Adidas with super fat laces
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| And the girls with the knee socks rocking the braces, yo
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| It was basketball and smoking pot
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| And pushing down the pedal till the motor’s hot
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| Rum and coke a lot, Karmacoma style
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| When push came to shove, it was love, listen
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| It was getting tattoos, smoking cigarettes
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| It was Zig Zag papers, time to build a spliff
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| It was getting digits, kinda hit and miss
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| It was happiness, lies and kids, come on
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| It was making out for hours, sharing a shower
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| It was sleepover parties, it was midnight hours
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| Getting into fights, dodging the cops
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| We was rocking the club on the drop
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| You can change the fashion, you can change the style
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| But you can’t change the way that I feel about time
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| Cause time went gold in '89
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| And kept it live through '95
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| It was cross color gear and hopscotch
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| Fat booming cassettes when the box rocks
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| It was gazing the lights from the rooftop
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| And then grinding the slides in the boondocks
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| It was big-checkered shirts over long sleeves
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| It was trips to the 'Dam for the strong weed
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| We were so free and wild, it was gnarly, yo
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| It was party, bullshit, back to party
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| It was two-wheel and three-wheel and four-wheel drive
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| It was hip-hop and jungle and reggae live
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| Peace, love, unity, respect vibes
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| It was ladybug, humbug and butterfly
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| It was Def Jam jokes and delirious
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| All them old folks complain and fearing us
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| Cause our magic was strong and mysterious
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| We got serious on the drop |