In 95 when my father was still alive,
Hip-Hop hit my heart and I started to feel the vibe.
I'd listen to Nas spit rhymes too damn correct.
I can't forget my doggystyle and my wu-tang cassette.
See, I was only ten, holding a pen,
Hoping to find schemes, writing over and over again.
At 13, I had a crew, we'd flow and hang out,
And that's how I started rapping with the homie Bankal.
He went his way and I went mine.
He switched to turn-tablism, I perfected my rhyme.
A decade later, we met again and said what up?
We gotta get together and tear the stage the fuck up!
Oh Boy! These kids so cool.
The beat's so deep, the flow's so smooth.
Mic check, one two, one two.
They came to rock, to rock the house for you.
We ain't about enterprising or dough making,
But we wanna say thanks to you folks for donating.
Peace to all the reviews and dope ratings.
For those that bang they skulls to this 'til they dome aching!
We gon' keep performing, beat-making, beasting for a reason.
Peace to all you people, Eastern European,
Swedish or Norwegian, Aussie, Asian, even North Korean.
France, Germany, US and the UK,
Africa, Mexico and even kids from Uuguay.
Chill ou and bump this, ‘cause this is a new day.
And haters: We couldn't give a shit'bout what you say.
Oh Boy! These kids so cool.
The beat's so deep, the flow's so smooth.
Mic check, one two, one two.
They came to rock, to rock the house for you.