Let’s take a walk through the record shop
Come on, Let’s take a walk through the record shop
Come on, Let’s take a walk through the record shop
But they ain’t got no more record shops
(Verse 1)
I’d like to welcome everyone to Hip Hop Heaven
Sour Deez, Kush, what’s your zip lock preference
Only true MC’s and DJ’s on the guest list
Now I’d like to introduce these Hip Hop legends
I’m talking lyricists who stayed and remained
I’m talking Slick Rick, Big Daddy Kane’s of the game
Not to be confused with these new and whack amateurs
I’m talking Big L, Pun, Kool G Rap caliber’s
Thumping Onyx and LOX bout to pop rounds
Fuck the cops, bumping Pac with the top down
Tryna rhyme over Premo in the Golden Age
That’s like tryna ride a high tide ocean wave
Turn up the base in the Chevy and thump proper
Puffin weed with Method and Reggie the Funk Docta
And down the block I see Ghostface booking it
GZA playing chess while the Chef stays cooking it
N.W.A. on a musical stage
That’s like playing Masta Ace on a beautiful day
Ayy, That’s like swaying to a B.I.G. melody
That Wu Tang, Killer Bee, EPMD remedy
That stand for something Chuck D was the best to come
KRS Knowledge Reigning Supreme Over Everyone
Plus Melle Mel could teach lessons and help lives
I’m on an L high riding bumping Elzhi
(Hook)
I’d like to welcome everyone to Hip Hop Heaven
Sour Deez, Kush, what’s your Zip Lock Preference
Only true MC’s and DJ’s on the guest list
Now I’d like to introduce these Hip Hop legends
I’d like to welcome everyone to Hip Hop Heaven
Sour Deez, Kush, what’s your Zip Lock Preference
Only true MC’s and DJ’s on the guest list
Now I’d like to introduce these Hip Hop legends
(Verse 2)
On the East, mic’s groove as we light trees
On the West, Ice Cube’s in my Ice T’s
Beastie Boys, that License to Ill bomb shit
Tryna B-Real taking Cypress Hill bong hits
For cats like AZ who never do it for the dough
And Brother Ali for making music for the soul
I love rap from rhymes to stage antics
Appreciate the realness from Slug to Sage Francis
Originators who first rocked in the park
All praise Allah, known as Rakim the God
Alotta people say the down South ruined it
So I must be an Outkast cause that trash is Ludacris
From Cunninlynguists to Sticky Fingaz they bring the sickness
No shady business, no shitty gimmicks, no pretty image
And even though I didn’t know it I was part of something
And now I’ve grown into a poet, I’m a product of it
Hardcore written rhymes, raw beats intertwined
MC’s, different vibes, got me on an instant high
Cause I remember tryna rhyme but I was missing lines
Cause I was only 4 in 95’ it was a different vibe
(Verse 3)
I learned quickly that this music shit was more than banter
Behind the mic there’s a whole side of life that I’m unaware of
Apparently this world’s corrupt and filled with bad shit
Watch this friendly rap game turn into a bad trip
The base knocks for all the lost dreams and bad decisions
Echos off the shadows of the addicts in the allies twitching
Through the passages of savages in crappy living
Traveling through traffic up to Static in the Valley spittin’
Hip Hop’s your best option when your only choice is evil
Creates optimism through the voices of the people
Created leaders who refused to remain silent
Dead Prezidents presence alone caused race riots
Eliminates the need to grab a weapon off the shelf
Vocab and wit becomes a battle weapon in itself
Watch me enter cyphers and increase the crime rate
Boppin’ through the Bronx with a Nas/Jedi Mind state
That’s like starring down a pistol with a barrel
I’ve been listening to Pharaohs since the Ritual of Battle
You a gimmick with apparel, I actually could body
I’m like Tragedy Khadafi while he’s rapping in the lobby
With a gat or with a shotty, I’ll splatter anybody
I’m like Crooked I with Demigodz Apathy beside me
With Styles of Beyond leaping through portals
Spittin’ Diabolical with the Technique of Immortals
This is real life, Non Phixion when they had the booth near em
Taking a pill dosage of Ill Bill truth serum
Till I’m at a point where you can’t drive with your car
Till I’m in Outerspace looking at a Binary Star
Or maybe Black Starr, Black Thought, Mos Def remained raw
Hip Hop Guru got me feeling like Gang Starr
I keep it blunt like a gutted cigar
Like RA the man who’s keeping it Rugged and raw
Or Killah Priest, Papoose, Sean Price staying reckless
Slim Shady, Slaughterhouse, Obie Trice, Shady Records
3 grand Andre, 50 cent, Lloyd Banks
Doc Dre giving Kanye little boy spanks
Hip Hop fuck your butter soft retro
Vinnie Paz, Tech N9Ne, Jus Allah, Necro
Shout out to Statik Selektah and Terminology
We should do an album together and call it Prophecy
Plus Eric B the President’s about to get elected in
With M.O.P., Mobb Deep, Alchemist, & Evidence
Get clocked out when I spit hot wattage
On my free time gain a lotta Hip Hop knowledge, Partner
So check my repertoire, best believe I’m extra raw
Bringing death to all of ya’ll if you ain’t spittin’ up to par
So get to work son, rhymin’ takes practice
Shut your shit down, we don’t tolerate wackness
Longtime Style P collaborator Fortes serves up instrumental versions of eight of his productions for the New York rapper. Bandcamp New & Notable Jun 22, 2020
