I'm just an addict, addicted to music Maybe it's a habit...I gotta use it.
I ain't no joke, I used to let the mic smoke, Now I slam it when I'm done and make sure it's broke.
It ain't where you're from, it's where you're at.
Take 7 emcees put em in a line And add 7 more brothers who think they can rhyme It'll take 7 more before I go for mine And that's 21 emcees ate up at the same time.
Let's travel at magnificent speeds around the universe What could you say as the Earth gets further and further away Planets are small as balls of clay Astray into the Milky Way, world's outasight Far as the eye can see, not even a satellite Now stop and turn around and look As you stare in the darkness, your knowledge is took! So keep starin' soon you suddenly see a star You better follow it, cause it's the R.
I wake you up and as I stare in your face, you seem stunned. Remember me? The one you got your idea from?
I used to roll up: this is a hold up, ain't nuthin funny. Stop smiling, be still, don't nuthin move but the money.
It's been a long time...I shouldn't have left you Without a strong rhyme to step to.
I go to Queens for queens to get the crew from Brooklyn, Make money in Manhattan and never been tooken. Go Uptown and the Bronx to boogie down, Get strong on the Island, recoup, and lay around.
You can hear the seven sins Blowin' through the ghetto wind.
Some of you been trying to write rhymes for years, But weak ideas irritate my ears. Is this the best that you can make? Cause if not, and you got more...I'll wait.
Feed me hip-hop and I start tremblin'
Tried to put shame in my game to make a name, I'mma put it on a bullet...put it in your brain.
I seen her in the subway, on my way to Brooklyn. "Hello, good lookin, is this seat tooken?" On the A Train, pickin at her brain, I couldn't get her number, I couldn't get her name. I said, "I still like your style and fashion, But I hate your hot sadiddy attitude wit a passion. Is it because brothers like to hawk a lot? Is it because your sign don't talk a lot?" She turned away, no play, I said, "OK, You don't really look good, I hope you have a bad day."
I came in the door, I said it before I never let the mic magnetize me no more. But it's biting me, fighting me, inviting me to rhyme, I can't hold it back...I'm looking for the line. Taking off my coat, clearing my throat, My rhyme will be kicking until I hit my last note.
I get a craving like I fiend for nicotine. But I don't need a cigarette, know what I mean?
And I'll break, when I'm through breakin, I'll leave you broke, Drop the mic when I'm finished, and watch it smoke
So all hail the honorable, microphone phenomenal Persona is unbombable? Trust me son, I continue like a saga do, bringin' you the drama to allow you that the chronicle has just begun.
So I start my mission- leave my residence Thinkin how could I get some dead presidents
Hopefully we get back to the raw essence of hip hop again.
Dabbling in music and being in music when I was young I had my own view of what I thought music was whether it was jazz, r&b, or hip hop.
There is still consciousness in hip hop.
What I want to do right now is give hip hop back to the hood. Before it was a neighborhood thing where it belonged to the hood and the rappers were reporting and there were rules and parameters. Now it seems like the artist's game.
Now it seems like hip hop belongs to the people you see in the videos and radios. So I want to give it bring it back to the hood, make a statement for NY to put us back in our proper perspective, and of course let them know that Ra still spits fire.
I love listening to old records to keep nostalgic feeling; it allows me to not lose the love for hip-hop.
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