| We invite you and your section to witness pure perfection
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| Right here in the form of these finest phonograph selections
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| Drums in all directions, arrange tonal inflections
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| Sound penetrates your chest like some sort of ill infection
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| Reflect eternally on these high fidelity masters
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| Whisper secrets in your ears in the form of ghetto blasters
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| Rap until the rapture, what you need, not what you want
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| As we represent the artform that was born in the Bronx
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| Forming the songs that haunt fake emcees nightmares
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| Might scare you straighter than the mayor did Times Square
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| Right there, the dopest vocalist hold this down like an anchor
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| Driving the mic like a motorist yelling, «Rappers are in Danger!»
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| Beautify tracks like trains by graff painters
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| Speak to rap fans like family even though you’re perfect strangers
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| Emcees showing their anger, so they be, they stand true
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| The sounds of music, do re mi, peace to Julie Andrews.
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| Sounds bounce through back alleys, pound the grouds of where you live
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| We found the call to pack venues wall to wall and we did
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| For all you kids, heads, whoever who are holding it down
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| All in all we do this now so you can soak up the sound.
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| Behold the now, evolution of stereophonic sound
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| Ultrasonic combinations of thought and revolution
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| Lock down spots like a convict, plus I’ve made a resolution
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| Don’t take part in popular practice of mind and noise pollution
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| Voiced the best solution but no one really wants to hear
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| The God of Abraham and Isaac was the answer all these years
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| Do I have to strike hearts like Richard Gere with primal fear
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| In the drivers' seat of life but really much too blind to steer
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| Target ears with acoustic weapons, the music of the culture
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| Collect props from heads like Fleer, but won’t be honored with a sculpture
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| Steer clear of idolotry even if you might call it me
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| I’d fall to see hypocrisy held high in the halls of we
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| I tell the fly to be grounded, the sharp to be well rounded
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| When you’ve mastered the facets of the craft, they’ll be astounded
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| Hold fast to syllabic patterns and different forms of meter
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| Use the vocab, teach the masses when you’re blasting through the speaker
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| The power’s behind the tongue, I’m the novel, you’re the reader
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| I’m the manCHILD, I' speak for the Most High, Elohim the leader
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| Surpassing heads who are lofty or holding it down for the underground
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| Behold the now, evolution of stereophonic sound. |