There’s four developing stages in the art of hip-hop,
And most of them developed from the snap, crackle and pop.
The first was the usage of an actual band,
The second was a drum machine made by a man,
The third was the human beatbox and percussion,
The fourth in line was samplin’ and the book of rhyme bustin’.
Now if I worry too much about all my have nots,
I might not recognize just what I’ve got…
The first lady in my life, but now you’re gone,
I learned through the years to keep carrying on.
Your picture brings me tears and memories,
The way things could be…and they should be, but they’re not.
Ayo, shout out to Mobb Deep, the Extra P
Busta Rhymes, De La, the J Beez, so don’t sleep
Yeah, I cut class…I got a D.
Cause History meant nothing to me
Except a definite nap.
That’s why I always sat in the back.
De La Soul, from the soul, black medallions, no gold.
Now if I worry too much about all my have nots,
I might not recognize just what I’ve got…