| It’s funny how I fell in love with my first YO | 
| Blood, sweat, tears in every verse wrote | 
| With every word spoke but I’ll do this music | 
| If I’ll earn dough or I was dirt broke | 
| Lyrical exercise but people respect the grind | 
| More than they respect the rhymes | 
| We make sure the names of all the heads that died | 
| Will always be kept alive and how long will they mourn me? | 
| Everyday until the end of time | 
| Look at the legacy they left behind | 
| The one love to the lyricists that still exist | 
| Cause I couldn’t picture this | 
| (It was all a dream) | 
| Before it was thoughts i’d seen | 
| When I close my eyes and fall asleep but now I’m living it | 
| This rapping shit ain’t a passing phase | 
| Cause the habit is hard to break, I can’t escape | 
| I put my soul in every rhyme that I write | 
| (Big L rest in peace) | 
| Cause ripping mics is the light of my life | 
| I’ve been fed up and my stomach is cramped | 
| The scene has practically vanished but my hunger is back | 
| And classics are haphazard, all I see is backpackers, whack rappers | 
| Black hatters and backstabbers as if that matters | 
| When we’re out laying the ground breaking foundations like jackhammers | 
| Miss ripping ciphers at open mics | 
| It’s a lifestyle, we rock our clothes oversized | 
| Inspired as an adolescent | 
| By Roc Raida on cross faiders | 
| Scratching with battle weapons | 
| It’s my passion, banging the beats | 
| For DJs and b-boys and the graff on the streets | 
| This is hop hop music’s in the vision | 
| Bringing you back to boombap fused with super-lyricism | 
| I’m still a fan of this shit far from marital bliss | 
| But I’mma stick with it till I’m carried by six | 
| What happened to Em? | 
| What happened to bis | 
| Will I be the next rapper to slip? | 
| (crazy) | 
| No better way of expressing myself | 
| See there’s hip hop then there’s everything else | 
| We go against the grain, change the game | 
| And we pave the way while you stay the same | 
| So pay homage, the difference is | 
| We give to this hip hop shit, not take from it | 
| Every word in the pad, every verse every track | 
| Word till the verge of collapse | 
| Never turning my back, my life is hip hop | 
| Live, breathe, spit, bleed, and die for hip hop | 
| How much time is left? | 
| Hip hop’s not dead, it’s dying | 
| And this here is its final breath |