Lyrics: Chris Summers
Music: Timothy Purnell
She was New York born and raised
For due cause, grew more and was drawn away
From the corner to the stage, but true form remains
Too raw for the corporate gains
We move forth in the dawnin' days
There is new talk in the sort of fame
Then we bringin' it back a little different
In fact, bringin' my man to deliver the track
Vision a plan as we mission a map
Turt, Twit, and C Tapp kickin' my raps but it's bigger than that
Givin' Hip Hop its worldwide props, if they're livin' it fat
Digging for tracks, mix spin it and scratch, flippin' the watts
For cats spittin' the facts start scribblin' raps strippin' it back
Snare kicks in the hearts make your mark
Hittin' the track scraps fillin' the cups in the shade of dark
Killin' it fact to flats picking the track relax kick back
Come (5x)
Come feel the rush of a real hiphop song
Guaranteed to rock and make the microphone steam
And once I got fat rhymes, blow out the deck
Every day all day from sun to sun
Beats the Germans bump fat like Sherman Klump
But me turnin' hunched than that snappers
French rappers with the dopest flow
If you know you know, from Soho to Tokyo
Hiphop crossed the water and the sands
Crossed the border fan to fans, lost in corners of the land
Stormin' on the path of the MP
Then we then free with the pen till is empty
And I'm no man in Poland M.C
Of the dome rappin' Roman if MBS
Broken shows no matter where you rest we
Cross the Globe from Cologne to the Gdański
Breakin' the statica
From Beijing, to Africa, Jamaica to Canada
Can't break from the habit 'cause
Feel my brain with the classic cuts
Far from gifted just addicted to this rappin' stuff (2x)
Come feel the rush of a real hiphop song
Guaranteed to rock and make the microphone steam
And once I got fat rhymes, blow out the deck
'Cause we don't stop get it get it
Keep it real when we spit it