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