Descripción de DEAD PREZ - HIP HOP:

DEAD PREZ - HIP HOP Uh, Uh, Uh, 1, 2, 1, 2 Uh, Uh, 1, 2, 1, 2, uh, uh All my dogs hook; It's bigger than hip hop, hip hop, hip hop, hip It's bigger than hip hop, hip hop, hip hop, hip hop Uh, one thing 'bout music, when it hit you feel no pain white folks says it controls your brain I know better than that, that's 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 don't reflect on how many records get sold On sex, drugs, and rock and roll, whether your project's 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), it's bigger than all these fake ass records When poor folks got the millions and my woman's disrespected If you check 1,2, my word of advice to you is just relax Just do what you got to do, if that don't work then kick the facts If you a fighter, rider, ?bout'er?, 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 I'm gonna know it when I play it hook; Uh, who shot Biggie Smalls? If we don't get them, they gonna get us all I'm down for runnin' up on them crackers in they city hall We ride for y'all, all my dogs stay real Nigga don't think these record deals gonna feed your seeds And pay your bills because they not MC's get a little bit of love and think they hot Talkin' bout how much money they got, all y'all 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, y'all don't 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 or justice? A dream or some substance? A Beamer, a necklace or freedom? Still a nigga like me don't playa' hate, I just stay awake This real hip hop, and it don't stop until we get the po-po off the block They call it.... hook: Uh, DP's got that crazy shit we keep it crunk up John Blaze'd and shit what repeat: Fake, fake, fake records