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7f7c33a287 Blu & Psalm One. Track Name: Innerspace f. Deacon: If we gonna start from scratch, you start with wax If there's no dish, then there's no rap Records, albums, vinyl, the facts Give us a stack of records and we'll give you 12 tracks The agreement turned cement 40 years ago Hip Hop, the vinyl frontier The embryo Two turntables a mic and a cold stereo, DJ, one MC, the imperial Many many put their muse to it Sent bop, sent rock, sent blues through it From classical to jazz we can whos who it Or blow the dust off and groove to it Lets ride B-side on direct drive You know that crackle give the best high Gimme a needle, a cartridge, a partridge , some tree 45s and a 33 Let it be Masta Ace: A new format hit the scene like way back It was smaller and more convenient than 8-track You could pop it in your car on a long drive Play the album or fast forward to song five If you passed a song you had to rewind it back It was kind of frustrating trying to find a track Memorex, ampex, down to TDK Whether Biz was on the radio or BDK When they was on the air, I was on the pause button I had the best tapes but I aint trying to cause nothing Cause everybody thought their pause was the raws Cats used to battle The shit used to cause wars We would trade tapes that was the best it could be Busy bee had the fever for treacherous three Having the best tapes, was like a status symbol The yellow tape, purple tape to the baddest demo Battles travel from the Bronx to baltimore They would stand by the speaker to record them all Them same tapes that was labeled with a thick marker Made the neighborhood rappers want to spit sharper If my tape pop trust I was ready man A razor blade, scotch tape and a steady hand I called it surgery, my cassette went under the knife And was brought back to life, man thats word it to me Kno: My relationship with bass and kicks haAnnotated come full circle Plastic and cheap but I clapped to the beat Stab the repeat button and keep running And that's somthing you can't get from tape dubbing Skip the skips with a flick of the wrist More time to check what's sick on the list The fickle dismissed this little digital disk But try and play vinyl in the whip, it'll skip And it's '96, I'm trying to get laid now Chose the format with binary laid down 1s and 0s, and 0s and 1s, flood the BOSE with flows and drums Blunts get blown in my homie's truck We sitting on chrome, little bone thugs We got wheels, we ain't trying to walk man CD's nuts, there's dust on my walkman Mr. Kno: It's four o-clock on a Sunday morning Who the hell is calling my phone? Waking me up I'm stretching and yawning If you had any sense you'd leave me alone Natti: Wee hours of the morning and word is bond Im in jail I need bail again, the word is bond Not James in a tux with olives draped on my cup With a dame all on me with healthy letters to cup So what up? Can you free me fore my prints get back? And they run em through the system and realize that I'm black All I remember was the stripper then I faded to rack Said her name was December than she sat on my lap "Merry Crimmuh" Liquor and higher power my witness I thought fleeing The People was just a matter of fitness With all these nice drinks, compliments of Dennis Whoever the fuck that is "Dennis is this!" Two middle fingers up "Dennis is this!" Dennis tab maxed out on titties and fifths Whoever the fuck Dennis, is Dennis is pissed! Cus I dont think that dude we was drinking with was Dennis at all, fam! Grieves: Ha, Yup, im aware its four in the morning but I just wanna tell you im drunk and im kinda horny I know it gets annoying, but I been losing my grip Every woman I talk to I treat like a fair piss and its a bitch Mainly cuz I now consider you one I wanna let you go but every time I seem to screw up Now thats the problem with the space that you occupy Its going great and then the thought of you would cross my mind A box of wine and a carton of coffin nails will Convince me now would be a great time for hate mailin Like "Hey bitch! How the hell have you been? Remember me? We were dating and you slept with my friends!" I just thought that Id remind you in case you ever forget it And train yourself to believe that you're not a terrible wretch ha You broke my heart into like a million pieces So heres another dim-litted picture of my penis Murs: Whoa! What the fuck is going on Grieves You saved my number under the wrong name in your phone? Is that a picture of your.? I'ma pretend I didn't see that All that rain got you suicidal up in Seatt.ohhhhh You had to much to drink again Whiskey & a cellphone ain't never gonna be your friend You booze you lose, homie you been warned You better off using your cellphone to watch porn Grab some lotion & a napkin Jack off off then pass out All these drunk texts'll have you fucked off and ass out I hope you black out before you do anymore damage I checked your timeline, homie.why you Tweetin in Spanish? I understand if this is what you gotta go through But when you sober up I got some screenshots to show you And Grieves, bro.you gonna be hella happy that all of them texts didn't go through. Yeah.
Track Name: South California f. Zumbi: In my city is blacks and blocks Where avenues and street tops where people struggle to sleep Ahk theres trouble and beef, gold teeth rocks get thrown at the higher power but dont reach Pops aint home, Mama been long gone away, so the children run stray Cannibalistic war play Its animalistic where I stay The devil wan' play and too many contestants thats every day The level gon stay where its at, Stay strapped. Global Warming all the yields falling down, Sisyphus is dead all the the hills falling down. Track Name: Beyond The Sun f. Murs & Grieves. the hand Friends. S.O.S: Follow me entering this digital odyssey Holy matrimony but harder to see Everywhere but non-existant, what a conundrum Upgraded but they say that we forgot where we come from The past feels even further with every second Off the record, the coming and going of Kbps's In the day of the instant message The message is misdirected and the receiver seems to be disconnected But don't complain, love gain Even after the flood came in and left our neighbors over-saturated With no computer love, just computer bugs Hate the virus and not the hacker, that's what a loser does Meanwhile, the kids are playing shoot em' ups Trying to be the 2.0 version of Super Thug Press reset, any era you wish to visit is next Hold on as we eject.