[Verse 1: Tame One]

I recall Marley Marl In Control
You got soul, Rakim told us
LL Cool J and [?]
Grandmaster Caz and them
Melly Mel and Flash and them
And the Furious Five
Me being curious, back in '95
R.I.P Subroc, and DJ Scott La Rock
And bombing up the bus stop and what not
Like fuck cops
When every other rap had a dance
You could sign and get an advance
And thugs would snatch the [?] patch off your pants
Adidas and cortez Nikes
[?] in blue and white
Doug E. Fresh la di da di
True to the night
[?], [?]

[Verse 2: Del the Funky Homosapien]

Ain't no [?]
It's the funk and it used to be a bad word
To those who had nerve to add dirt
Just to cover us up
But look on the magazine cover it's us
Stylin' all the fly rhymes we cosign
We could get nasty like
Blowfly, Red Fox and them, [?]
Or could modify the hymns
That lifted you higher
We had the spirituality that'll get you through the fire
And that'll give you something to spit
Some real spit that you won't forget
You could call it soul
All the old school cats need to
Be acknowledged and stop the violence
Unless necessary
By all means, cuz life is a funky deal
And that's [?]
[Hook: Del the Funky Homosapien]

Rap is the shit
Graff is the shit
DJ's [?] this is the shit
Breakin', poppin'
All of it is the shit
The blues and Jazz and R&B is the shit
Rock is the shit
Our music is the shit
Our whole history and creativity is the shit
Rewind the tape to the start
And then fast forward
Always givin' y'all more of it

[Verse 2: Tame One]

Let's take it back a few months and years
Before all the blunts and beers
The crunk careers
And the hoes and the stunts appeared
Before punks was weird
And raps was flows
Before Hip Hop turned to a fashion show
When New York graffiti completely personified the city
Before fitteds
Before bitches and n***as was gettin' jiggy
Before the rubber band became an accessory piece
And any big bird you heard about was on Sesame Street
Before Reagan was takin' them chunks outta poppa's checks
Back when rapping different was spittin' like Das EFX
Remember the 40's?
People was getting locked up [?]
[?] with the shorty
'til she got locked up in your hallway
Cuz mom wasn't having you hanging out on the avenue
Coming home with some skank
Your little brother would laugh at you
Them type of cats that used to rock the biker caps
[?]
And don't forget them lumberjacks
[Verse 3: Del the Funky Homosapien]

I had the Fila trench coat
The shit was dope
Full length, this shit was bright red
And it matched the Fila kicks
With the blue and white stripes
The type that looked like Reebok's
Didn't go to school
Didn't need lockers
I proceeded with caution to my partner Onion's crib
We called it the onion lab
Lots of cats in the Bay used to bug his ass
For some studio time
Damn I love his ass
Cuz a lot of n***as said that our stuff was trash
But he said "fuck that!
You a crazy n***a yo Del
But you be coming with that"
He was older, showed us some love
For a dub
He let me work the SP1200 all day
Let me perfect my style
So now, when the youngsters holler
Imma look out
[Hook]

[Verse 4: Tame One]

Remember video music box
With big kid Uncle Ralph
And Salt N' Peppa
And MC Lyte had that hot burgundy Jetta
DVD's
Matching fat laces
My neighbors envied me
We was the first with MTV
Completely [?]
Bumping the Beastie Boys
Robbin' and steelin'
Bobbin' and weavin'
Like a chick's hair in prom season
The crack attack
The 1980's Haitian invasion
Suede Adidas
And the sneakers they made for skating
The "ahhhh, this stuff is really fresh" scratch
Rockit by Herbie Hancock with [?]
[?] recall those days [?] commercials for Pepsi
Harlem notes
Stratton coats
[?] on the deuce, flicking
Top billin' cuz milk d was chillin
Ski goggles
GP13 nick bottles, for the powder
Or the pyramid paper
Scrape a hour for the owl
Hustling hard, nothing but God judge me now
[?] your bitch will fuck me now
That's what's crackin'
What happened?

[Hook]