(Verse 1) (Bing Cypher)
I find it hard to believe that the game has life
When all I see is a clown with fingers made out of mics
Heart carved out of ice
Eyes that are stage lights
And a face that's always covered with a hood dark as the night
A presence in itself who's trying to seem right
Persuading all of its followers to sell their soul and life
Exchanged with the fame and glory
To preach all the hoods stories
Infecting and advertising the wrong just like Maury
But I can see right through it with x-ray eyes
Like Clark Kent from Smallville with limits up in the sky
Never could I relate it so never did I debate it
Or try to be fitting into the hood because I ain't it
And rap I used to hate it
Repeated it like a statement
Cause I couldn't fuckin' relate to half of the shit they played
I'm a hypocrite I played
Even tried to relay it to my own life stories so I could impress the game
But reflection, infection and it started infecting mine
Cause in retrospective we wanna make connections right
It's not about the cars, the girls, the fame
Just some big digit bills of presidents who came
So I started switchin' my style
Took me a little while
Didn't get my respecting but started making connections
Lupe's Food and Liquor got thinkin' a little bigger
And I told myself to take the shot and fuckin' pulled the trigger
(Verse 2) (Bing Cypher)
From '91 till the day that be the end of me
I might be gone, but my lyrics are here for infinity
Forever and continuing
Foundation for remembering
History is made everyday; Cheers to memories
So stop all the confusion we started a revolution
And call me Captain Planet I'm cleaning up the pollution
The game needs change
I'd rather see the dollars
Like the dead presidents we need some old school scholars
Like the wind I wish that it could blow away
And we could stop all the songs about the size of chains
The cars candy paint and the rims with bling
All the commercializing got me goin' out of my brain
Insane just like the straight jacket padded wall shit
I'm all restless like I'm on Adderall bitch
So never could I be heard my lyrics are absurd
Causing a ruckus from the inner cities to the burbs
And the public views me as a little bit irritating
My flow is underground you say that it's irrigated
But I rule the basement dojo I'm the master
Rap's Mr. Miyagi I'm on and off waxin'
The mainstream pulls and erodes all of the acting
And with my classes I can't see past it
I'm praying for my chance hands cuffed and kneeling
You can't hold me down like Wayne there's no ceilings
(Verse 3) (Gro)
Yo feel the rhythm of the Illmatic
While Im preachin' my seminar that's Socratic
Syllables Flippin' like acrobatic
On top of the world chillin' in god's attic
While I got your mind hooked like a heroin addict
But don't shoot up and lose touch for the rush
Young prospect go to school you hoopin' too much
NBA veteran got you tuning in later than Letterman
Listening to me deliver like Stockton to the Mailman
Speakin Frank like Anne
Concentrating while I camp
Using knowledge as my tool to help me pay to go to school
But I could use some more money so Holla(cause it)Cost me
Rhymes meaner than a fuckin Nazi
You blind if you can not see
Yes its Jesse the nice kid of the family
So Kind I'd cut you to pieces and give it all to charity
Voluntarily there ain't no repairing me
My heart is strong got the pride of a lion
I got your future in my hands like the minds of the Mayans
My desire to put my dreams higher than the Empire State of mind that I'm in
Shining brighter than the diamonds from Sierra Leone or Arizona
Put your minds to ease, like a gram of medical marijuana
Verbal elements got the mommas hotter than a sauna
Peaceful like the Dalai Lama
This my term call me Obama
Droppin' lyrical bombs like Osama
I find it hard to believe that the game has life
When all I see is a clown with fingers made out of mics
Heart carved out of ice
Eyes that are stage lights
And a face that's always covered with a hood dark as the night
A presence in itself who's trying to seem right
Persuading all of its followers to sell their soul and life
Exchanged with the fame and glory
To preach all the hoods stories
Infecting and advertising the wrong just like Maury
But I can see right through it with x-ray eyes
Like Clark Kent from Smallville with limits up in the sky
Never could I relate it so never did I debate it
Or try to be fitting into the hood because I ain't it
And rap I used to hate it
Repeated it like a statement
Cause I couldn't fuckin' relate to half of the shit they played
I'm a hypocrite I played
Even tried to relay it to my own life stories so I could impress the game
But reflection, infection and it started infecting mine
Cause in retrospective we wanna make connections right
It's not about the cars, the girls, the fame
Just some big digit bills of presidents who came
So I started switchin' my style
Took me a little while
Didn't get my respecting but started making connections
Lupe's Food and Liquor got thinkin' a little bigger
And I told myself to take the shot and fuckin' pulled the trigger
(Verse 2) (Bing Cypher)
From '91 till the day that be the end of me
I might be gone, but my lyrics are here for infinity
Forever and continuing
Foundation for remembering
History is made everyday; Cheers to memories
So stop all the confusion we started a revolution
And call me Captain Planet I'm cleaning up the pollution
The game needs change
I'd rather see the dollars
Like the dead presidents we need some old school scholars
Like the wind I wish that it could blow away
And we could stop all the songs about the size of chains
The cars candy paint and the rims with bling
All the commercializing got me goin' out of my brain
Insane just like the straight jacket padded wall shit
I'm all restless like I'm on Adderall bitch
So never could I be heard my lyrics are absurd
Causing a ruckus from the inner cities to the burbs
And the public views me as a little bit irritating
My flow is underground you say that it's irrigated
But I rule the basement dojo I'm the master
Rap's Mr. Miyagi I'm on and off waxin'
The mainstream pulls and erodes all of the acting
And with my classes I can't see past it
I'm praying for my chance hands cuffed and kneeling
You can't hold me down like Wayne there's no ceilings
(Verse 3) (Gro)
Yo feel the rhythm of the Illmatic
While Im preachin' my seminar that's Socratic
Syllables Flippin' like acrobatic
On top of the world chillin' in god's attic
While I got your mind hooked like a heroin addict
But don't shoot up and lose touch for the rush
Young prospect go to school you hoopin' too much
NBA veteran got you tuning in later than Letterman
Listening to me deliver like Stockton to the Mailman
Speakin Frank like Anne
Concentrating while I camp
Using knowledge as my tool to help me pay to go to school
But I could use some more money so Holla(cause it)Cost me
Rhymes meaner than a fuckin Nazi
You blind if you can not see
Yes its Jesse the nice kid of the family
So Kind I'd cut you to pieces and give it all to charity
Voluntarily there ain't no repairing me
My heart is strong got the pride of a lion
I got your future in my hands like the minds of the Mayans
My desire to put my dreams higher than the Empire State of mind that I'm in
Shining brighter than the diamonds from Sierra Leone or Arizona
Put your minds to ease, like a gram of medical marijuana
Verbal elements got the mommas hotter than a sauna
Peaceful like the Dalai Lama
This my term call me Obama
Droppin' lyrical bombs like Osama
( Bing Cypher )
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