B-Boy

Ladies and Gentlemans
 This an ode to the b-boy, b-girls,
 The people out there who do it for the love
 And belive me i'm not dissin' anybody out there who's trying to get paid,
 I'm trying to get paid too
 But I got one question
 (I)
 Whatever happened to the heart
 That pumped the passion into the art
 The entity that gave you the energy to wanna start
 Break dancin', imma battling doing it at the park
 Where the mission was expression not only to top charts
 I dont know what happened wanting to blow rap
 You lose soul and passion for the flows and the tracks
 Radio's lackin', controlled by Fascists assholes doin' damage
 But we're gunna take it back
 Before beats to a hundred g's a pop
 All you needed was a table top and a beat box
 Hip-hop with out the b-boy is like shelltoes only havin' two stripes
 Hip-hop we're freedom-fighting graffiti-writing party types,
 That recite and organize and revitalize our rhymin till the group of the money makers systems knows the industry can eventually get served.
 Breakers of my verses spinning up a revolutions throughout our words
 If you really want it come on get it coz i've got it
 Coz im honestly paying homage to forgotten pioneers of this culture that are giving them props and learn.
 If you wanna earn your stripes
 You gotta be able to rock this mic and set cyphers alike
 The feeling to put in everything you got in the circle
 Will never be documented in the Coke commercial
 We be the baddest
 Now B-boys, B-girls
 Bring it back to the block
 Lemme see you get ill, for real, pop and lock!
 If you record without thought then stop
 Because I'll serve your whole album with the goddamn beatbox
 Without thought it just happens
 If you gotta think to feel, that's not rapping, that's acting
 I'm from a land of backpacks and fat cats
 MCs with sick raps who serve those that are wack
 It's a way of life
 I put all my energy into the melody
 On the mp3s until the death of me
 Record exceptionally, especially
 Whenever I be monumentally, grammatically, killing the mic
 I tell my DJs, cranking that music, keeping 'em moving when the beat plays
 Staying into it, breaking and grooving, and MCs they
 Thinking that you should always pursue in what their dreams make
 Taking from lucid
 All the people gotta make their money
 And the way to make money is to get inside of the industry
 Take it on the radio, flow
 So you can go blow, we get a car
 And a crib up on MTV
 But in the end what's classic?
 Radio bubblegum? or a voice filled with passion?
 To my real hip-hop heads, please stand up
 Cause the only people that can preserve this art is us.