| Slowly and steadily MC’s are fallin off like leprosy
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| Instead build immunity and spread insight through community
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| These fundamentals, form the krux of longevity
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| When melodies are looped and vocals harmonize in unity
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| Now its 99 and ain’t a damn thing changed
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| Some seek fame as wealth manipulates the brain
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| Let me, paint this picture, your minds the canvas
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| Many claim their real and later flake like dandruff
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| Cause 1 out of 10 stick to their words
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| The other 9 stick to my nikes and get rubbed out on the curb
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| Lets be real, we’re paper chasin' for financial backing
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| But theres a thin line defined by need and greed many are passing
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| Known as crossing over for exposure some embark
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| Or cars, jewels and shit that won’t exist when we depart
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| Crews, don’t snooze, or eyes become bruised
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| This goes out to those that slept knew the deal or were confused.
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| Check the blueprint.
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| So MC’s, take it back to lyricism
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| Producers, pour out your heart into the rhythm
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| DJ’s pay bills develop skills
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| And respect the architecht as we begin to build
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| And check the blueprint, to keep the culture alive
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| And check the blueprint so as an artist you can survive
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| And check the blueprint I speak these words without frills.
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| So respect the architect as we begin to build
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| Clutchin my pen tight strugglin to portray the right depiction
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| I’m punchin the wall of writers block, loathing for recognition
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| Nowadays your not heard, unless your posing an image
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| With watered down lyrics that appeal to most who listen
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| Instead i’ll water the roots so branches will replenish
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| Expanding elements that pioneers started building
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| Hiphop houses, so many free loading MC’s
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| I feel theres only a few tenants who’ve been paying their fees
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| 360 degrees what goes around comes back
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| I’m smoking mics as I inhale lies and exhale facts
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| Unfold the blueprints, the plans for improvement
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| Bridging gaps between the mind, ball point pen and the clueless
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| Innovation is useless once you forget the essence
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| So respect the architect. |
| pick up your pens and start sketchin
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| Pick up your pens and start sketching.
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| So MC’s, take it back to lyricism
|
| Producers, pour out your heart into the rhythm
|
| DJ’s pay bills develop skills
|
| And respect the architecht as we begin to build
|
| And check the blueprint, to keep the culture alive
|
| And check the blueprint so as an artist you can survive
|
| And check the blueprint I speak these words without frills
|
| So respect the architect as we begin to build
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| As I open my slanty eyes to this place called earth
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| I contemplate how music has lost artistic worth
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| And I’m shrivled up in my niche like the scrotum when its freezing
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| With bags under my eyes on account of too much sleeping
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| Because of these lies in rap that I can’t feel
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| Leaving me dazed with the phrase «i keep it real»
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| How many times have you heard this being fed through your ears
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| I’d rather be fed in the mouth, to shit it out from the rear
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| Claiming their underground but underwater their wrinkling
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| And me like water buoys to that level I’m never sinking
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| Sink your teeth into my words hard enough to be lispin'
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| Then when finished biting them, find your front teeth missing
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| I see em sippin fine wines in spas, to match their image
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| Gimmicks. |
| I flap my jaws and their squads diminished
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| I don’t mess with Glocks but metaphorically in speech
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| I’d like to pump em' with more shots than diabetics receive
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| Then in a better place may they peacefully rest
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| In hopes that next time the blueprints they’ll manifest
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| Check the blueprint…
|
| So MC’s, take it back to lyricism
|
| Producers, pour out your heart into the rhythm
|
| DJ’s pay bills develop skills
|
| And respect the architecht as we begin to build
|
| And check the blueprint, to keep the culture alive
|
| And check the blueprint so as an artist you can survive
|
| And check the blueprint I speak these words without frills
|
| So respect the architect as we begin to build |