Lyrics:
to uplift
Hip-hop, hip-hop
My voice is like a monster
And now a word from our sponsor
Two, three, four, five, sex, seven, eight, nine, ten
I gotta
Entertain like Cedric, had that codeine in my beverage
Way back in day, let them niggas use me for leverage (well, damn)
F on my report card, on my hip, I
Welcome
to the voice response registration system
of True School University
representing universally
you have added
hip hop ethics
one two zero
for
like it
Was way too hot and too fast
For hip hop doo wop rock or bop
Ain't here to hurt you
Don't hang in them circles
Government ain't got me
Yet so
Saddam by the blow up in cmerica, nigga
[Hook]
Yeah,
Whatever happens to your Hip Hop, Doh?
Whatever happens to your Hip Hop, Doh?
Whatever happens
Ok, let me clear a couple things up for you
And it might get weird
I know how this sounds
But we are not gospel rappers
We don't do Christian hip-hop
I am 10 albums in now
And no one you know
Gives you anything
Nothing is handed to you
So I gotta take it
And you know
Claim my claim
I am hip-hop
hip-hop music, from the soul, y'all
Yeah, check it, yo
The perseverence of a rebel I drop heavier levels
It's unseen or heard, a king with words
Can't
I met you in a club in Atlanta, Georgia
Said me and my homeboy were coming out with an album
You looked at me like, "Yeah, nigga right"
But you
plastic, you've heisted the magic
You've taken the drums and the accent you rapped in
Your brand of hip-hop, it's so fascist and backwards
That
to see
So all that straggling in the gate trying to get close to me
Y'all n****s need to stop
Trying to flip the hip hop scrip
I snap and crackling
bring ya right to the top
Sir Vicious, Just-Ice, the gangster of hip-hop
Got a witness by my side, the truth to tell
You can ask B.I. Or my brother
my baggage
Hundred feet above average (average)
By twenty-one I was a savage (uh)
By twenty-two I had a foreign, by twenty-three I had crashed it
car bombs
For bein' over-critical when Uncle get it on
I'll burn your magazine, GOD'll intervene
Can't front on this hip-hop phenomenon from Queens
on a race track
So the lines about your
Phantoms and your Maybach
Are ghost tales of the phantom, face facts
You ruined Hip-Hop
Slaughterhouse will payback
got no legs, they cut them off at the stomach
He's got mechanical legs, he spins webs
Plus he's well-respected by the hip-hop heads
Our mission is
yourself
And Tunechi's gon' find someone to love
And you go by yourself, so all alone
One minute she love me,
The next minute she hate me
That's two minutes
klubach
Notorious umarł i umarł 2Pac
Ty nie pal głupa, hip hop nie upadł
To dzięki tym, którzy w to wierzyli
Hip hop jest żywy i wciąż jest tutaj
Kultowy
Once upon a time, there was a hip-hop b-boy warrior whose body was possessed by two egos
One very hedonistic and narcissistic, but operated
realist niggas
You fuckin' with some killas you fuckin' with the motherfuckin' realist niggas
Dirty motherfuckas tryin' a clean hip-hop,
But it don't
to the game Joe
This is hip-hop at its finest, where'd you find this? In a Ziploc
'Til the wheels fall off, fuck a pit-stop or what not
Where my tear drop? I
it
You be putt loopbing work in but be purbin
Defeatin hip-hops real purpose
But real hip-hop will surface
At your service
Yeah you gots the right
work in but be purbin
Defeatin hip-hops real purpose
But real hip-hop will surface
At your service
Yeah you gots the right to be nervous
And if it
Lyte]
We jammin' on the for the daughters and sons
The struggle is not over until the battle is won
Hip-Hop is life but it ain't all to me
Now where
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