Let's take it back to the seventies When Rap was born and made emcees. But before they could even bless the Mic It would be the DJ that rocked the night From the Message that rained down from Sugar Hill To the beat from chic that spun the wheel When the Godfather & Ms. Summer ruled the dance floors It would be a mighty Blow from Harlem to break down the doors Similar to the Chuck Taylor's that graced the league Those fresh adidas, name belts, cazels & Lees would RUN our emcees Puma windbreakers, box tops and boom boxes Broke windmills, head spins and pop lockers Paper Thin emcees got ripped like nickel bags Looking up into the Lyte, defeated; Cramming to Understand B-Boys gathered for blocks & blocks Breakdancin' and freestylin' as My Radio jammed the boom box Too many got laid down in the West Too many hot bullets pierced too many black hearts Yet one bold young brother, kept on screamin' Life is Too Short! The Government, C. Delores Tucker, the President and Bob Dole Set out to censor the rap game & claim their own fame. But they got the Gas Face Fools this is Our Thing! -ANTWAN 'ANT' BANK$