The rap era's outta control, brother's sellin' their soul To go gold, going, going, gone, another rapper sold (To who) To pop and R&B, not the MD I'm strictly hip-hop, I'll stick to Kid Capri Funk mode, yeah, kid, that's how the Squad rolls I know your head is bobbin' cuz the neck knows (Not like other rappers) frontin' on they fans, they ill Trying to chill, saying "damn, it be great to sell a mill" Thats when the mind switch to the pop tip (Kid, you're gonna be large) Yea right, that's what the company kicks Forget the black crowds, you're wack now In a zoot suit, frontin' black lookin' mad foul I speak for the hardcore (rough, rugged and raw) I'm outta here, catch me chillin' on my next tour From the US to the white cliffs of Dover Strictly underground funk, keep the crossover
(So whatcha sayin) You wanna go pop goes the weasel You know you should be rocking the fans wit something diesel But you insist to piss me off black So I flex the biceps so I can push em back So real hardcore hip-hop continue wreck it And all sucker MCs duck down and get the message So ban the crossover, yo, who's wit me (Hit Squad) yea, P, hit me
Another megablast funky dope style from cross yonder (So help me Rhonda, help, help me Rhonda) (Yo, from what) the crossover, yea crossing you over Outta here, gone, peace, nice to know ya (see ya) What a way to go out, no clout is what the fans will shout Cause you got gassed and took the wrong route Came on the scene, chillin', freakin' a funky dope line But when they finish wit you (beep) flatline Some say there's no business like show business But if this the truth, please explain why is this Rappers been around long, makin' mad noise you see Still I haven't seen one rapper livin' comfortably No time to pick and wish on a four leaf clover I stick to underground, keep the crossover
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