[Verse 1: Large Professor]
First the temperature dropped, then the lights got dim
Then the words of the legendary god Rakim
That said "bitin' it'll make ya choke" was then hung by a rope
As the legions began to grope
For more ways to coin a phrase
From those born and raised
In them glory days that never foresaw change
As an option just spent their spare time polishin'
Portraits and making new ones to build the fortress
Strong but deep in the eye of the storm
Was the sponsors who made muhf*ckas sound bonkers
Some would go that a way in direct response to
The nonsense they thought was a threat of abolishment
Some held steadfast looking dead ass sayin'
No way in the world will wackness last
Went down to the cathedral with the stained glass
Images of Bboys when the rain passed
Everybody came out surround by devastation
Like indians on a reservation
Began patiently cleaning up the done damage
We back to life like a mummy that's unbandaged
[Hook]
Large Professor on the mic check 1-2
Get some Dean on the track
What you gon' do
Hold it down for real Hip-Hop always
"Tell em P!"
[Verse 2: Large Professor]
Then things resumed like normal
No more cornball b*tch hormone
Rappers on the mic son we back to life
One said as the other one lie in the bed
Unconscious still up in the zone of the sponsors
You under the misconception of a whip and hex kid
Betta snap outta that man holler back
When you up and at ...em
I'll be up the block wit xtra p cuz he breaks the f*ckin' atom
Door slammed on the boar's head ham
Ole boy didn't understand what was at hand
Cause then blam right there dream turned nightmare
All the superficial blew away like a cruise missile
Dude we missed you but glad you still here
They was sayin' when the sleep kid decided to appear
Up the block at they man crib sh*t was like a banquet
Everybody greeting and eating and giving thanks kid
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Large Professor]
At the fork in the road I took the right route
Now it's lights out for all that bullsh*t dudes be tryina write about
Hip Hop is serious it come from the streets
Can't f*ck wit the felons then run to the police
In a nick of time I'll squash all them nickel and dime
Jive ass guys fast wit a new rhyme
From the treasure chest where every measure is yes
My mind's the power line by special request
Of the thorough tradition out working on the railroad
Fly masterpiece rhyme in the earlobe
Of a 20 from Friday to Monday I'm Andale
Wit no latency or time delay
Just be around the way chillin' wit the homeboys
Or in my room writing like Donald Goines
Stackin foreign coins and cashin' ...em in
Like 3,2,1 count down kid we bout to win !!
[Hook]