Hip-Hop Is on Its Way Back

Yo, The world is comin’ to an apocalypse

Burnin’ up in hot shit

Cause we can’t learn from consequence

We be… Infected by the toxic

So now I try to flop it and stop it with my Hip-Hop shit

All my family, yo you know my nicely, feisty-done steelo

Rotten like the duo; Batman and Robin

Dodgin’ cops and stopping innocence from get robbed and shot

And scoopin' out all the kilos

Yeyo ain’t me though…

I’m born high, surprised, and stressed out of my mind all the time

Basically yo...

Ever notice Christmas is the color of blood, money and greed though?

I lay back in the spot, and keep my hand locked with the pen

Stuck in a trance in my empirical den

Till my lyrical stream of flow is no longer forgotten

Till my aggressive message is sent and gets attention

Fighting ignorance till I’m spotted, like Jeru The Prophet, I'm on it

Lettin’ succkaz know that I’m not fit to ya schemes

I got different dreams, so stop it

A clock tics

Jerkin’ off thinkin’ about her charm

While I wish to be asleep for my 10 a.m. alarm

A shot sits on the counter awaiting me

No alcohol today in me

I ain’t even explaining B

Parody Sound Clip: “This that real fuck boy shit. If I never ever flow, then I still get rich. This is how we smoke that piff, I be in the clouds man, gettin’ high with ya bitch.”

SHUT THE FUCK UP!

Bring Hip-Hop back and revive, and exterminate the wack

Think about your raps, and cut out all that trend following crap

We brainwashed

Radio needs its fuckin’ Hanes washed for shitting everywhere

I fuck it in its mouth all day, every day in the bare

Don’t you ever dare to bring that shit here

I keep it funky and so fresh all day

For the music junkies that are willing to pay

For the messages I say

If you a chameleon, get the fuck outta’ my way

I keep it funky and so fresh all day

For the music junkies that are willing to pay

For the messages that I say

If you ain’t real son… Get the fuck outta’ my way