I’ll never understand why a wack rapper tries and
Convinces himself that his image is so fly and
That’s the type of crap you know I’m not buying…
Chumps lack the beats and their rhymes don’t apply.
Brooklyn: the home of the black and the beautiful.
For a rough rap sound, ain’t a place more suitable.
New York, New York is where we live and we’re thorough,
Never taking shorts, ‘cause Brooklyn’s the borough.
Peace to Uptown, to Queens and The Bronx,
Long Island and Jersey get as fly as they want.
But I must tell you, where we rest is no joke…
So let me break it down to sections for you slow pokes:
Fort Greene, Bed-Stuy, Flatbush, Brownsville,
Crown Heights and East New York will be down till,
Medina takes respect for the styles we bring,
‘Cause in Brooklyn we be into our own thing.
Telling my business to kids I don’t even know,
You’re like a daytime talk show…and that’s low.
There oughta be laws against you yappin’ your jaws.
According to Guru (RIP): “Streetwise poetry and turntable wizardry.”- from “Flip the Script,” off of Gang Starr’s Daily Operation, 1992
Now I got my new girl, or as I say my baby doll,
But I’m still gettin’ crazy calls, my ex-girl’s got balls…
So much anger built inside…
So don’t stop to say ‘Hi,’ muthafucka just die.
You know, I used to be a player…flygirl-layer and a heartbreaker,
Lovemaker, backbreaker, but then I made a mistake.
Yes, I fell in love with this ill chick,
Sweatin’ me for money, my name and the dilsnick.
My homeboys told me drop her cause it would be to my benefit;
She used to say I’d better quit hanging with those derelicts.