Can I get a little real hip hop, can we get a little real hip hop

Please don't stop, real hip hop (hip hop!)

Can you explain this? How rap is going through so many changes

From poetry to openly talking bout who's the lamest

And see what's strange is the advantage is coming of age

The young'ens acting heinous, labeling you as haters

(You talking all this trash but homie I am the greatest

Remember I said it you're gonna regret it once I'm famous)

Hah! Man, shut up you ignoramus

Courageously shameless walking around talking outta your anus

Your grip on real hip hop is anything but tenacious

(Oh yeah you talking 'bout swag?)

No homie not in the faintest

Sense of being brainless, forgive me for my vagueness

My God, give me your IPod, keep this song on your playlist

They say that heaven's gracious

You see familiar faces

They meet you at the gates of fate with open arms and praises

It's crazy, I see the same here on Earth

The beloved moments be covered(?) in a newborn's birth

But not for death 'cause we favor it less

Mama Mia, the idea with fear can oppress I confess

But see that stems from the fear of unknown

We only know what we're shown, we go in alone

B-b-b-bad to the the bone

So we created something unknown

That we can love and place it above

Believers reprieve, join the club

And so we place the devil below 'cause that's where we go

When we're forced to say the opposite of hello, so, so

As I chill on this beat, beat

Brain activity currently at its peak

I see exactly what they don't want me to see

That religion is a division of weak(?)

So, follow the leader

Yeah, I promise I'll lead you

To Eden for those eager believers, leave it to beaver(?)

This is for those daily tweeters who tweet 'till they have a seizure

Nearly meet the reaper

Leave and then follow the same procedure

I'll free you, from that wannabe gangster life

Yeah we all know the type, (?) smoking weed out of pipes

The bamboo with the crew, random corners with city lights

They post up pictures on Facebook to legitimize their nights, nice

Nah, you just don't get it

That life wouldn't be cool even if it wasn't synthetic

The streets will put you to sleep like you're under an anesthetic

'Cause you claim to carry arms but what you got is prosthetics, pathetic

Nah, you just don't get it

Man, they just don't get it

(Hook)

Your gangsters cosmetic

I put it in this rhyme 'cause I hear it all the time

Like my people from the hood, stay on your grind

Nah, they just don't get it

Your gangsters cosmetic

Can I get a little real hip hop, can we get a little real hip hop

See, I want to spit knowledge half of the time

But half of the time only rhyme with merely half of my mind

But only spit it through the voice of a mime

Through my movements it's hard to define

Either way it's a waste of time but

If the point of hip hop's to get gwops, spit hot, get a wrist watch

Fresher than a zip lock

I'd rather be a broke ass writer and sketch a sick plot

And like(?) the top of the food chain is a clock

Hear it tick tock, tick tock, tick tock

Soon the minutes slip

Minutes turn to hours tryin' to devour the infinite

But let me know if you're into it

Feed you spittle with little wits

And you bite the hand that feeds off of kibble bits

Pending: imminent imprisonment of the insolent

Militant, where you're found guilty 'till proven innocent

And you contain the beast using a musical implement

Good thing I'm articulate, using words as my instrument

Huh, yeah using words as my instrument

Good thing I'm articulate using words as my instrument

Forever intricate, feeling omnipotent

Like the universe this verse could have been infinite

Now clap your hands if you love hip hop and

Snap your fingers if you love hip hop and

I know everybody here loves hip hop

That's why with these lyrics I never ever stop

Real nigga wassup?