[Verse 1: Tame One]
I recall Marley Marl in control
You got soul, Rakim told us
LL Cool J and [?]
Grandmaster Caz and them
Melly Mel and Flash and them
And the Furious Five
Me being curious, back in '95
R.I.P Subroc, and DJ Scott La Rock
And bombing up the bus stop and what not like f** cops
When every other rap had a dance
You could sign and get an advance
And thugs would snatch the [?] patch off your pants
Adidas and cortez Nikes
[?] in blue and white
Doug E. Fresh la di da di
True to the night
[?], [?]
[Verse 2: Del the Funky h*mosapien]
Ain't no [?], it's the funk and it used to be a bad word
For those that had nerve to add dirt just to cover us up
But look on the magazine cover it's us
Stylin' all the fly rhymes we cosign we could get nasty like Blowfly, Red Fox and them, [?]
Or could modify the hymns that lifted you higher
We had the spirituality that'll get you through the fire
And that'll give you something to spit, some real spit that you won't forget
You could call it soul, all the old school cats need to be acknowledged and stop the violence unless necessary
By all means, cuz life's a funky deal and that's [?]
[Hook: Del the Funky h*mosapien]
Rap is the sh**, graff is the sh**
DJ's [?] this is the sh**
Breakin', poppin' all of it is the sh**
The blues and Jazz and R&B is the sh**
Rock is the sh**, our music is the sh**
Our whole history and creativity is the sh**
Rewind the tape to the start and then fast forward
Always givin' yall more of it
[Verse 2: Tame One]
Let's take it back a few months and years
Before all the blunts and beers
The crunk careers and the hoes and the stunts appeared
Before punks was weird and raps was flows
Before Hip Hop turned to a fashion show
When New York graffiti completely personified the city
Before fitteds, before b**hes and n***as was gettin' jiggy
Before the rubber band became an accessory piece
And any big bird you heard about was on Sesame Street
Before Reagan was takin' them chunks outta poppa's checks
Back when rapping different was spittin' like Das EFX
Remember the 40's? People was getting locked up [?]
[?] with the shorty 'til she got locked up in your hallway
Cuz mom wasn't having you hanging out on the avenue
Coming home with some skank
Your little brother would laugh at you
The type of cats that used to rock the biker caps
[?], and don't forget them lumberjacks
[Verse 3: Del the Funky h*mosapien]
I had the Fila trench coat, the sh** was dope
Full length, this sh** was bright red and it matched the Fila kicks
With the blue and white stripes, the type that looked like Reebok's
Didn't go to school, didn't need lockers, I proceeded with caution to my partner Onion's crib, we called it the onion lab
Lots of cats in the Bay used to bug his a** for some studio time
Damn I love his a**, cuz a lot of n***as said that our stuff was trash
But he said "f** that! You a crazy n***a yo Del but you be coming with that"
He was older, showed us some love
For a dub, he let me work the SP1200 all day
Let me perfect my style
So now, when the youngsters holler, Imma look out
[Hook]
[Verse 4: Tame One]
Remember video music box, with big kid uncle Ralph and Salt N' Peppa
And MC Lyte had that hot burgundy Jetta
DVD's, matching fat laces
My neighbors envied me, we was the first with MTV
Completely [?] bumping the Beastie Boys
Robbin' and steelin', bobbing and weaving
Like a chick's hair in prom season
The crack attack, the 1980's Haitian invasion
Suede Adidas and the sneakers they made for skating
The "ahhhh, this stuff is really fresh" scratch
Rockit by Herbie Hanco*k with [?]
[?] recall those days [?] commercials for Pepsi
Harlem notes, Stratton coats, [?] on the deuce, flicking
Top billin' cuz milk d was chillin
Ski goggles, GP13 nick bottles for the powder
Or the pyramid paper scrape a hour for the owl, hustling hard
Nothing but God judge me now, [?] your b**h will f** me now
That's what's crackin'
[Hook]