Let's take it back to the seventies
When Rap was born and made emcees.
But before they could even bless the Mic
It would be the DJ that rocked the night
From the Message that rained down from Sugar Hill
To the beat from chic that spun the wheel
When the Godfather & Ms. Summer ruled the dance floors
It would be a mighty Blow from Harlem to break down the doors
Similar to the Chuck Taylor's that graced the league
Those fresh adidas, name belts, cazels & Lees would RUN our emcees
Puma windbreakers, box tops and boom boxes
Broke windmills, head spins and pop lockers
Paper Thin emcees got ripped like nickel bags
Looking up into the Lyte, defeated; Cramming to Understand
B-Boys gathered for blocks & blocks
Breakdancin' and freestylin' as My Radio jammed the boom box
Too many got laid down in the West
Too many hot bullets pierced too many black hearts
Yet one bold young brother, kept on screamin'
Life is Too Short!
The Government, C. Delores Tucker, the President and Bob Dole
Set out to censor the rap game & claim their own fame.
But they got the Gas Face
Fools this is Our Thing!
-ANTWAN 'ANT' BANK$
