"I rip the vocal backflip yo the kid is a bad bro
I can drip it hipper than a dip to calyp-so. . ."
Here are the rest of the words if you're feeling pro:
"A-dios, amigo, which means I gots ta g-o
Makes you wonder bout my number
Guess my address or my p.o., here’s a hint:
I’m from phila with a del but not the rio
Well, I’m guessing here is like exactly where the phi go
Now, we got the phila-del-phi
why not top it off with an a?
The philadelphiadic rhythmatic way
I’m straight from philly
Silly but rugged than a hill-billy
Just like I said before I sport my skully when it’s chilly
My cap is from the lay up, my bows from the gilly
The roots, is out to blow up like a clip from out the milli
Or the oo-wop, I do drop, gizantic, the crew wop
From out the darkest field I goes to pick the funk crop
You can’t deny the props so stop before your fronts
Get loosened, introducing, the roots y’all..."
Truly, one of the things I love most about hip hop is that it belongs to me and only me. What I mean is that I don't associate it with anyone. All of the old music from my past that I loved so well belongs to different people in my memory. I have to think of whether or not I really want to go back to that person or place before I pop it in or not.
My relationship with hip hop began in the isolation of repetitive factory work; but it distracted me so well, that I don't associate it with the factory, either. I just enjoy it for how it sounds and how it makes me feel.
To me, hip hop feels fun. I love how the beats can keep me awake when I am falling asleep on the road or when I'm not working quickly enough at the factory. It perks me up if I'm feeling grouchy or overwhelmed. If I turn it on and start rhyming along, I can always make it long enough to reach my immediate destination.
3 comments:
It made me smile. thanks for sharing.
Hey, thanks for finding me, I had no idea you blogged! Fun fun, add me to you list, and I"ll be a better blogger.
Lindy
Hey, so... I've read your blog a few times and thought I should say hello and let you know I do before I felt creepy about it. I saw your link on Whitney's blog and so I read it. There I said it. But I'm sure you remember me. Tiffany Tucker? Good old primary days? And that weekend in New Jersey/ New York? You must remember me...
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