Lyrics

MY HIPHOP

TUPAC SHAKUR:
“Don’t support the phonies. Support the real. You know what I mean?
How can these people be talking about how they so real and they don’t care about our communities?
They don’t care about our communities. You know what I mean?
Listen to the words that people say in their lyrics and tell me … if that’s real to you.
You know what I mean?
Listen to what they’re saying.
Don’t just bob your head to the beat - peep the game!
And listen to what I’m saying, and hold us accountable for it.”

INTRO:
(…wishing on a Blackstar…)
Dubbing songs onto tape from the radio…
…that’s Hiphop/
(…wishing on a Blackstar…)
Running out the door with five finger discount downloads…
…that’s my Hiphop/

VERSE:
I remember I was ‘bout eight or nine - I had the/
tape copy of ‘He’s the DJ and i’m the Rapper’/
studied everything from that to Jedi Mind Tricks and I…/
…think you better get back like a chiropractor/
cuz by the liquid swords of Shaolin - I’m destroying this beat/
and i’m not a revolutionary like Immortal Technique/
I’m just an everyday people like Arrested Development/
following in footsteps the size of menacing elephants/
I could never be a 2pac, or RZA, but - hey…/
…ran with N.W.A.s who loved to listen to Dre/
you’d get sentenced to Death Row for messin’ with them bad boys/
a Verbal Assassin once you get my Gift of Gab going/
I can’t afford to slow down, drinking my coffee Blackalicious/
while I’m stationed at Fort Minor, man - all these albums vicious/
who can name a CD with zero beats that’s wack?/
one of my faves is KRS One’s ‘Sneak Attack’/
a hundred more nominees, I know you gots a lot/
but, damn it Jim - I’m just a Funk Doctor Spot/
so fuck Doctor Spock, he’s ‘bout to take a big L/
I Chant Down Babylon and see you all in hell/
cuz, man - I got a method, even in quarantine/
I ‘Regulate’ like Nate Dogg and Warren G/
and y’all are boring me, so I’ll be Jack N. off/
because it’s Dark Night joker … the Black-est-Thought.s/
but my Queen say try U.N.I.T.Y./
I’m so Kurupt that I”m Snoop-in’ inside your mind/
yo - that’s a pretty Big Pun, i got Serius Jones/
my mind’s Krayzie Bizzy, Flesh is Layzie, Wish-ing my BONEs/
didn’t hurt, but I’m 40 like a fuckin’ St. Ides/
and I don’t drink, I love Canibus - but up in its prime/
don’t make me Bust up -a-Rhymes about ‘cha Boomer weed/
the kinda shit that Randolph used to call ‘pooter’ trees/
them karaoke days with Yak - forever I’ll remember them/
I was moved by the ‘M’usic and the ‘M’icrophone … Eminem/
I jump light speed, all they have is a Cuisinart/
murder clown burger rappers with Mac Lethal bars/
I see you fools trying to guess what I says next/
Kennedy and Eisenhower … shout out to Dead Prez/
I keep a small circle, man - I’m kind of an Outkast/
and ‘Life Is Good’ Nas, man - I shine and I outlast/
these shrimp boat Gumps that couldn’t take mean weather/
you know who you ‘R’ like ‘The 18th Letter’/
spittin’ a lot of god damn bars - I better take a deep breath or…/
…I’ll run out of shit to say, and that’s the way we end it/