Modenine - For the Love lyrics

Professor D: You know I've been HipHop now for so many years And when I first heard rap how it opened my ears In my formative years I fell in love at first sound and Learned how to put words over the snares ba** and Kicks, started with the basic tricks take the Hits from my favorites change my name from his But I quickly moved away from this as I discovered my Innate genius to create lyrics With my newly founded super powers came to grips And on microphones became the most dangerous All we had was our love for real rap cuz There were no funds for turntables or samplers And thus did it innovatively then We had no instrumentals so I came with a plan I'd record some open bars on my tape deck and then Rewind the tape, play it and then tape it again (Chorus:) Let me tell you how HipHop came to me And how an underground star's what I came to be And even though I've come far and it's paying me I truly do it for the love not the fame or fee Modenine: I never knew that HipHop would put food on my plate Back in 88 I was a youngin showin' the traits Searching through crates, studyin' the old school greats Reciting they rhymes, with my mates, till my jaw ache No mistake it came to me, redefined my whole fate Way back, I'm rockin' shows from an instrumental tape Sneakin' out the house got my mom mad comin' in late' When my pop locked me in my room I'd pop lock and break Wasn't very good mic wise, was def without the wake Used to wait for radio just to play one rap song They said it was a pa**ing phase it wouldn't last long My treasure was my bu*ter colour tims made of black ones Dyed ‘em, punished ‘em ‘till they turned to wack ones Fatal attraction just put me in the zone My best friend my walkman with one earphone Yes y'all I'm in the house, HipHop is my home! (Chorus) B-Elect I keep right like Kris Parker been rockin a mic since Rockin'a Parka up in tha park, pop lockin' Floor rockin'em, 84 rockin' the bells with L way before Industry dummies made it about the money now it's funny Everybody wants to play my funk But wasn't there when it was rough Mad studio sessions without sleeping Defecating over beats droppin' mental feces Slept on until my mic dreams was in pieces Masterpieces getting lost inside of PCs Record companies want you to sound like Bob Marley retards Holding guitars tryin to sound Jamaican But it's the heart, the heart that pumps the heart Like the D rocks dreads and spits it lyrical worldwide universal Like Modenine, Thoroughbreds, Dope Poets colab on this track What? What? (Chorus)