"Yeah  they talkin about rap."
 "We don't rap  its not about rap we livin it what they talkin about.
 It's not about college or what you read in a newspaper or magazine. Its
 hear its reality  this is our nature. Its how we live."

 [Guru]

 Now everybody on Earth wanna rap  we burnt all of that
 Knocked off the game  and cold broke is spat
 Gang Starr  will Billy Danze and Big Slap
 Word to Laze, big schools and big gats
 You didn't whip it right so pick up the pace
 Word to grimy niggas, they want to stick up the place
 Word to hiphop, plus a crib that's laced
 Primo's breaks, activate the mental, that's all
 We got credentials galore, fuck a small vending tour
 Yet, still, I be at the around-the-way spots
 Near where niggas be slinging innocent get hit by straight shots
 And brave cops, protect the community
 While corrupt cops, be harrasing you and me
 Pullin me over, in front of the crib, in front of my neighbors
 Askin for favors, here's a cassette and why you
 question my behavior?
 Pursuing me, trying to catch me off quard
 I shrug scars, you see a lot of hoes at thug bars
 I don't care what these beats my do
 We'll sun you, plus I see right through
 Its way it means to me and M.O.P.
 Just To Get a Rep, nigga, you best to step, nigga, Salute!

 Chorus:

 Holdin it down ----> Billy Danze
 Phony ass rappers ----> Guru
 Dead serious ----> ??
 Finish em ----> Lil' Fame
 (Is this hiphop) Hell no this is war ----> Billy Danze
 Heavy artillery, in my vicinty ----> Lil' Fame
 *repeat, change 5th line to: M.O.P.*

 [Billy Danze]

 Aiyyo, the game's called surivival *echoes* I admit
 As a soldier, I've done a lot of shit
 To the so-called tough dude, I ain't mad at you
 But I wish I wouldn't of had to do the shit I had to do
 It's true, I would jump up in a Bamma
 And travle miles of road to unload this hammer
 (And I) Notice ?colors? when they glance
 At the baby boy of Haddy and Frank Danze
 I won't stress the blazin
 But I will think about what size slug best for the occasion
 (It's so amazin) ???? pop shit
 Like Windy Williams till you fuckers bury me
 (Who we be!) What, what's wrong, nigga?
 (First Family) Come, come on, nigga!
 (Ain't nothin cute) My niggas is ready to shoot
 For the love of the First Family thugs, Salute!

 Chorus

 [Lil' Fame]

 Before you slit your wrist, bitch, imagine this
 M.O.P., Gang Starr (Damn!) hazardous
 Thugs that got love for this hiphop and shit
 Makin words rhyme at the same time poppin shit
 I used to go to jams, and drop grammar
 Before I left niggas told me (Boy take your hammer!)
 Sure nuff, shit got rowdy
 Dumped off my first clip at a house party
 I love this rap shit, though, the love is clear
 But fuck the parties, my nigga, I lost a brother there
 Only if I'm gettin paid (That's right)
 And the shit gon' benefit the trade
 I snatch a mic, turn it out, bad
 Even have you smooth niggas fuckin up yours shoes and your outfit
 I be, the Brownsville slugger (Signing out)
 Act like you know what I'm about, Salute!

 Chorus

 *Premier scratches to fade