[Canibus] Wake up, what is the date? 1988 Hip-Hop is barely exposed to the emotion and hate I hibernate, rhymin' from space, my first album ten years late I tried to take it to a positive place But it was like a communist state, I tried to escape My label shot me in the back as I was climbin' the gate I woke up, now I'm awake, I found democracy to be fake Hip-Hop s**s, who made it this way? I was a teenager when hip-hop saved the day Paychecks paid the way, not radio play Some artists had knowledge of self, that little bit of honesty helped Violent lyrics promoted positive guilt So even when you thought the message was negative it promoted positive health It was about the rhymes, not wealth It was about our culture, not about what the culture could sell It was a path to enlightenment, not Hell We amused ourselves and this confused everybody else I memorized "Rock the Bells" I memorized "Tales from the Crack Side" I used to rock gazelles EPMD, "You Gots to Chill" Doug E. Fresh, Slick Rick, Pete Rock, "Mistadobalina" was Del Cold Crush Crew, Melle Mel Sugar Hill, Salt-n-Pepa, Sweet Tee pretty as hell Shante dimple on her face, pretty as well I used to wanna smell the pale Roxanne's tail Technics 1200, beat it like an SB-12 Lord Finesse the punchline king, Heavy D was doing his own thing Dio and McGruff used to hold things Biz Mark's big a** gold chain One day I think I saw the Jungle Brothers dancing on Soul Train Marley Marl, Craig G, Master Ace, Big Daddy Kane Kool G Rap put me under his wing On the road to lyricism, with Rakim and them Some real lyricists, Eric B. was sick with the zigga-ziggas I know I'm trippin', it's been a minute So many brothers and sisters it's hard to remember who did it Memories disappear like Whodini
My friends disappeared faster than my budget when my producer was greedy ["Fat, Boyyyyyyyyys"] feed me I've been eatin emcees, you still don't believe Brand of wool, brown teeth, red blood leak from Black Sheep Whenever the horns blow it gets deep Digging In The Crates for my n***as in the street Diamond D had the "Best Kept Secret" for weeks D-Nice said, "Bis, you a beast", Redman said, "Peace" Def Jam said I couldn't compete k**ah Priest spit "Heavy Mental" before "Heavy Mental" was released Acapella, no instrumental beat My Girbauds would hang low, no crease Timbs on the feet, Cold Cheeks had a Lex Tom Leek had the MPV, J Rav had the Jeep Clark Kent had the Tahoe, Charles bought a 4.6 because of Jay-Z The program director's name from Hot 97 was Tracy Tragedy Khadafi, Queens' first intelligent Prodigy Probably the first Arab Nazi K-9 Posse chew you up like blue chunk chopped meat MC N-I-N-E "This is the way we walk in New York" "Throw Ya Gunz" in the air if you ready for war Throw your hands the air if you ready for more If I don't like the way you look, I'mma tear your face off The Undergod, underground lord When it comes to "100 Bars" you n***as know who to ask for! I woke up in the mornin', on a regular day I knew my n***a K-Solo would be around my way I washed off my Thor hammer, the trigger mechanism lubricate It was time to destroy the place He kept sayin' if I spit my rhymes on the mic In no time, I would be back in the limelight I said, "Solo, nowadays I don't feel rap Cause it ain't like it used to be, the sh** is whack" He said, "No 'Bis, trust Wolfgang, cause I know my sh** You already know the flows I spit" We love hip-hop, we gotta pay homage to the sh** I love hip-hop