Hip Hop Lyrics. From Movie "Dave Chapelle's Block Party"
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Hip Hop Lyrics
by Dead Prez. From Dave Chapelle's Block Party.
Uh, uh, uh, 1, 2, 1, 2
Uh, uh, 1, 2, 1, 2, uh, uh
All my dogs
Itís bigger than hip hop, hip hop, hip hop, hip
Itís bigger than hip hop, hip hop, hip hop, hip hop
Uh, one thing íbout music, when it hit you feel no pain
White folks say it controls your brain
I know better than that, thatís game and we ready for that
Two soldiers head of the pack, matter of fact who got the gat?
And where my army at?
Rather attack and not react
Back the beats, it donít reflect on how many records get sold
On sex, drugs, and rock and roll, whether your projectís put on hold
In the real world, these just people with ideas
They just like me and you when the smoke and camera disappear
Again the real world (world), itís bigger than all these fake ass records
When poor folks got the millions and my womanís disrespected
If you check 1,2, my word of advice to you is just relax
Just do what you got to do, if that donít work then kick the facts
If you a fighter, rider, ? boutíer? , flame ignitor, crowd exciter
Or you wanna just get high, then just say it
But then if you a liar-liar, pants on fire, wolf-cry agent with a wire
Iím gonna know it when I play it
Uh, who shot biggie smalls?
If we donít get them, they gonna get us all
Iím down for runniní up on them crackers in they city hall
We ride for yíall, all my dogs stay real
Nigga donít think these record deals gonna feed your seeds
And pay your bills because they not
Mcís get a little bit of love and think they hot
Talkiní bout how much money they got, all yíall records sound the same
I sick of that fake thug, r & b, rap scenario all day on the radio
Same scenes in the video, monotonous material, yíall donít here me though
These record labels slang our tapes like dope
You can be next in line, and signed, and still be writing rhymes and broke
You would rather have a lexus, some justice, a dream or some substance?
A beamer, a necklace or freedom?
Still a nigga like me donít playaí hate, I just stay awake
This real hip hop, and it donít stop until we get the po-po off the block
They call it....
Uh, dpís got that crazy shit we keep it crunk up
John blazeíd and shit what
Fake, fake, fake records
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