Yo, yo...yo it's the sphere of hip-hop part 2. soulheir the manCHILD and dj dust for you and you and you and you and you....yo, and you, too
Yo it's this and it's that
It's hype and it's flat
It's white and it's black
It's abandoned and it's packed
It's backpackers, it's wack rappers
Beat jackers, chip stackers
But thank God it's microphone masters
It's after, it's before
It's rich and it's poor
It's local open-mic nights, it's international tours
It's four tracks, it's demos, it's six-fours, it's limos
It's drug-free, it's indo
It's wives and it's bimbos
It's what I love and what I loathe
It's battling, doing shows
It's turning on radios and hearing about cars and clothes
It's the rise, it's the fall
The boo's the yes-yall's
It's all in together, it's now and it's forever
It's day and it's night
It's wrong and it's right
It's full blown promotions and it's "Don't Believe the Hype"
It's five mics, the limelight
It's eternal, it's finite
It's obscure genius and record deals when you can't rhyme right
Yo, I chase it and it follows me
It's popular, it's a mockery
It's "My Adidas", my advice, my radio, "My Philosophy"
It's permanent, it's moving
It's showing, improving
It's in everything we're saying, it's in everything we're doing
It's hell-bent, heaven-sent, it's what you represent
It's "F the Police" and it's "Eric B. for President"
Yo, it's evident, it's hidden
It's your freedom, it's your prison
It's the sphere of hip-hop, and it's the place where I live in (yo)
(gimme a chance man, I know I can rock it)
(sounds like hip-hop)
Yo, it's off and it's on
It's pros and it's cons
It's dusk and it's dawn
It's word up, it's word is born
It's word life
It's blunt but it still cuts like a knife
It's primetime, it's outta sight
It's "You Gotta Fight For Your Right"
It's all right and it's outstanding
It's sitting and it's standing
It's "Come Clean", explicit content, wal-mart banning
It's fans sing the lyrics
It's loud, but most can't hear it
It's in demand, it's on clearance, it's the cameo appearance
It's "The Breaks", it's The Show
It's Doug E. Fresh, it's Kurtis Blow
It's your words, it's your cadence, it's your style, it's your flow
It's the beat, it's the kick, it's the snare, it's the street
It's the way that I speak, walk, sleep, pray, and eat
It's concrete schoolyards, hard-rocks, it's hard-knocks
It's Freaky Tah, it's Big L, it's Biggie Smalls, it's 2Pac
Yo, it's acappella scratches
It's old and new-school classes
It's 3rd Bass, "The Cactus"
It's age-old and it's matchless
It's peace and it's anger
It's your friend, it's a stranger
It's the B-boys, graff painters
It's the 36 Chambers
It's the DJ, turntablist, the maestro, the producer
But don't forget it's the 1980's pop singer looper
It's true and it's false
It's play and it's pause
It's perfect, but it's flawed
It's hot and it's raw
It's Hold it Down, and stay fly
It's what, where, when, and why
Yo, it's hip-hop, and I gotta rep it till I die
(gimme a chance man, I know I can rock it)
(sounds like hip-hop)
(well, I have this bad habit)
...
(sounds like hip-hop)
