[Intro: Bruce Lee]

"Ultimately, martial art means honestly expressing yourself

I mean it is easy for me to put on a show and be cocky

Or I could show you some really fancy movement

But to express oneself honestly, not lying to oneself

And to express myself honestly

Now that, my friend, is very hard to do."

Like sands through the hourglass, so are the days of our lives

And for that live moment we thrive

Awakenings, as we make the dead come alive

Rise and walk my son, come into the light

Inside the dark we illuminate mics

Give knowledge to mediocre, the wheel to neanderthal

Filter to the the smog, digital to analog

We steady advancing, rhyme enhancing

Simple minds can't keep up with this

{​Verse 1: Senim Silla}​

Dig - I'ma put it on the table

I ain't a thug nigga and playa, I ain't playful

I'm just Senim Silla, a man without label

Standing on my own two, just trying to stay stable

Speaking what I know, do only what I'm able

I ain't the kind of guy who carry on for dough

The material cat who walk around for show

I'm just your everyday, merry way, joe on the go

While others go with the flow

I ain't never been the one to follow trend, I do my own bit

Can't keep up with the Joneses, I'm on my own shit

I don't care what you drink, what you stress

How you dress, or where you got the link; I ain't impressed

These lames run around like mice in a maze

Trying to get up on cheese, it's just a rat race

One of Shaytan's schemes to make man worship things

Over The Supreme Being, or Astafullah

Should I join the hypocrites?

Or side with the suckers by choice It makes no difference

That y'all product of environment, it's just coincidence

The world's a violent place baby, there ain't no more innocence, or civil men or penitence

Just ignorance cats don't know right from wrong

They mimic shit they see on TV or hear in a song

What that tell you they on? A sucker act up every minute

The righteous live on but the the nigga's are infinite

[Verse 2: One Be Lo]

I ain't hardcore, I don't pack a 9 milli-meter

Most of y'all gangsta rappers ain't hardcore neither

Whoever get mad then I'm talkin' 'bout you

Claim you fear no man but never walk without crew

Where I'm from, your reputation don't mean jack

So what you pack gats and you sell fiend's crack?

You ain't big time

My man, you ain't no different from the next cat in my neighbourhood who did time

Rhyme after rhyme it's the same topic

What make you think you're hardcore cause you was raised in the projects

Broke ass finally got a hundred in your pocket

Now you on the mic spitting money's no object

What you say is bull-crap

If you wasn't with your crew and wasn't drunk off the brew

Would you still pull gats?

You need to stop frontin'

Or you're headed for self destruction

Yeah, today's topic is self-destruction

I ain't talkin' 'bout the KRS-One discussion

I'm talkin' 'bout the one too many ignorant suckers

Lying on the mic to my sisters and brothers

Every time you listen to the radio, all you hear is nonsense

They never play the bomb shit

Everything that glitters ain't gold

And every gold record don't glitter that's for damn sure

[Scratching Voices]

"Y'all need to be cool as shit"

"Time to kick shit from the heart"

"Y'all rambling on, and ain't sayin' nothing"

"Too busy in the limelight, can't rhyme tight"

"I won't dwell on that, I think I'll elevate my mental"

"When I talk, I know I’m talking for Hip Hoppers all around"

[Interlude]

Yo, see cats got confused somewhere man (confused)

About what hip-hop was, you know what I'm sayin'

Or what hip-hop is, (it's business yo) you know it

It's all business

(its big money, know what I'm sayin' that's all these cats about)

You know that's bullshit, right? But dig it though, dig

But if you want to make money yo, I got it broke down though

I got it broke down, (break it down yo)

You got hip-hop, then you got hip-pop

Hip-pop? (hip-pop)

Alright, (but a lot of cats want pop)

Yes, (know what I'm sayin')

It used to be real hip

You got the top 40 version of hip-hop

I still got something else, something else that I wanna get off my chest

What? (know what I'm sayin'?)

[Verse 3: One Be Lo]

How many cats you know speak the ill-legit rhyme after rhyme diligent?

85 percent represent ignorant

Either you innocent or guilty

Some of my favourite emcees fell off

It damn near killed me

Looking at the kids that was true hip-hop

Nowadays, them cats don't even do hip-hop

Rap got 'em brainwashed with cash that don't last

And five minutes of fame, that's when it's a shame

Seeing real emcees trying to imitate rappers

If you ask me they going out ass backwards

Trading in respect to push a fat Lex

Puff rhyming on the remix, what's next?

It hurts so bad I wanna smack 'em

My favourite crew members break up, turn around and join whack ones

This is dedicated to you hip-hop hypocrites

Driving whack songs like you don't give a shit

I ain't got nothing against nobody trying to make a decent living

It ain't the money that's the issue

Only if that's the reason why these cats are making decent music

That's when I got beef with you

And I'ma break it to you like never

Go ahead, call me player hater if it make you feel better

Try to jump my crew if you cats feel froggy

You need to wake up and smell the damn coffee