Here we go now, quit recking my stereo-sound,
Spitting rhymes like a merry go round,
Talking 'bout your heavy fo' pound,
your barretta, your cheddar, your megalo style,
Fella, quit messing around,
Measure yo message yo, merit yo crown.
Many clowns making money, many men wanna rap,
every dummy wanna spit it but how many profound?
Mcs are an army of clones,
talking 'bout their revolvers n' clothes,
baccardi n' hoes, with garbagy flows,
is a beat really that hard to compose?
Hip-hop comes from the heart n' the bones,
you can feel it when I'm rockin' my shows.
I'm a lyricist, I'ma spit about every bit of it,
I'm living it : a real MC already knows !
I keep rockin' til I need oxygen,
peace to all the beat boxers n'
beat makers, the DJs, the street breakers
n' those that keep watching 'em.
Graph writers that paint the city,
they spray the walls, they make 'em gritty,
displaying stories that talk to me,
in a way that's witty.
Individual vultures are killing the c**ture,
with no heart in the music,
you should move if you don't wanna unify hip-hop
n' be a part of the movement, stupid !
yeah... You heard what I said.
f*** the rumours this lot spread
I'ma tell every m*********** listenin'
(Hip-hop is not dead!)
Stop the fuss dog, what's the problem?
Trust me y'all, the c**ture ain't dead it's just evolvin'
(Hip-Hop is not dead !)
Like Latin, a language dies when it does not move.
So let it live, let it mix, let it choose.
(Hip-Hop is not dead!)
Suckers debate over who's so dope n' who's so not,
Hip-hop police suck my you know what!
(Hip-Hop is not dead!)
Don't be Nostalgic about something that you can keep breathing
That's a good enough reason...
(It's Alive... ! )
Spitting rhymes like a merry go round,
Talking 'bout your heavy fo' pound,
your barretta, your cheddar, your megalo style,
Fella, quit messing around,
Measure yo message yo, merit yo crown.
Many clowns making money, many men wanna rap,
every dummy wanna spit it but how many profound?
Mcs are an army of clones,
talking 'bout their revolvers n' clothes,
baccardi n' hoes, with garbagy flows,
is a beat really that hard to compose?
Hip-hop comes from the heart n' the bones,
you can feel it when I'm rockin' my shows.
I'm a lyricist, I'ma spit about every bit of it,
I'm living it : a real MC already knows !
I keep rockin' til I need oxygen,
peace to all the beat boxers n'
beat makers, the DJs, the street breakers
n' those that keep watching 'em.
Graph writers that paint the city,
they spray the walls, they make 'em gritty,
displaying stories that talk to me,
in a way that's witty.
Individual vultures are killing the c**ture,
with no heart in the music,
you should move if you don't wanna unify hip-hop
n' be a part of the movement, stupid !
yeah... You heard what I said.
f*** the rumours this lot spread
I'ma tell every m*********** listenin'
(Hip-hop is not dead!)
Stop the fuss dog, what's the problem?
Trust me y'all, the c**ture ain't dead it's just evolvin'
(Hip-Hop is not dead !)
Like Latin, a language dies when it does not move.
So let it live, let it mix, let it choose.
(Hip-Hop is not dead!)
Suckers debate over who's so dope n' who's so not,
Hip-hop police suck my you know what!
(Hip-Hop is not dead!)
Don't be Nostalgic about something that you can keep breathing
That's a good enough reason...
(It's Alive... ! )