[Intro: Bruce Lee]
"Ultimately, martial art means honestly expressing yourself
I mean it is easy for me to put on a show and be cocky
Or I could show you some really fancy movement
But to express oneself honestly, not lying to oneself
And to express myself honestly
Now that, my friend, is very hard to do."

Like sands through the hourglass, so are the days of our lives
And for that live moment we thrive
Awakenings, as we make the dead come alive
Rise and walk my son, come into the light
Inside the dark we illuminate mics
Give knowledge to mediocre, the wheel to neanderthal
Filter to the the smog, digital to analog
We steady advancing, rhyme enhancing
Simple minds can't keep up with this

{​Verse 1: Senim Silla}​
Dig - I'ma put it on the table
I ain't a thug n***a and playa, I ain't playful
I'm just Senim Silla, a man without label
Standing on my own two, you're trying to stay stable
Speaking what I know to only what I'm able
I ain't the kind of guy who carry on for dough
The material cat who walk around for show
I'm just your everyday, merry way, joe on the go
While others go with the flow
I ain't never been the one to follow trend, I do my own bit
Can't keep up with the Joneses, I'm on my own shit
I don't care what you drink, what you stress
How you dress, or where you got the link; I ain't impressed
These lames run around like mice in a maze
Trying to get up on cheese, it's just a rat race
One of Shaytan's schemes to make man worship things
Over The Supreme Being, or Astafullah
Should I join the hypocrites?
Or side with the suckers by choice It makes no difference
That y'all product of environment, it's just coincidence
The world's a violent place baby, there ain't no more innocence, or civil men or penitence
Just ignorance cats don't know right from wrong
They mimic shit they see on TV or hear in a song
What that tell you they on? A sucker act up every minute
The righteous live on but the the n***a's are infinite
[Verse 2: One Be Lo]
I ain't hardcore, I don't pack a 9 milli-meter
Most of y'all gangsta rappers ain't hardcore neither
Whoever get mad then I'm talkin' 'bout you
Claim you fear no man but never walk without crew
Where I'm from, your reputation don't mean jack
So what you pack gats and you sell fiend's crack?
You ain't big time
My man, you ain't no different from the next cat in my neighbourhood who did time
Rhyme after rhyme it's the same topic
What make you think you're hardcore cause you was raised in the projects
Broke ass finally got a hundred in your pocket
Now you on the mic spitting money's no object
What you say is bull-crap
If you wasn't with your crew and wasn't drunk off the brew
Would you still pull gats?
You need to stop frontin'
Or you're headed for self destruction
Yeah, today's topic is self-destruction
I ain't talkin' 'bout the KRS-One discussion
I'm talkin' 'bout the one too many ignorant suckers
Lying on the mic to my sisters and brothers
Every time you listen to the radio, all you hear is nonsense
They never play the bomb shit
Everything that glitters ain't gold
And every gold record don't glitter that's for damn sure
[Scratching Voices]
"Y'all need to be cool as shit"
"Time to kick shit from the heart"
"Y'all rambling on, and ain't sayin' nothing"
"Too busy in the limelight, can't rhyme tight"
"I won't dwell on that, I think I'll elevate my mental"
"When I talk, I know I’m talking for Hip Hoppers all around"

[Interlude]
Yo, see cats got confused somewhere man (confused)
About what hip-hop was, you know what I'm sayin'
Or what hip-hop is, (it's business yo) you know it
It's all business
(its big money, know what I'm sayin' that's all these cats about)
You know that's bullshit, right? But dig it though, dig
But if you want to make money yo, I got it broke down though
I got it broke down, (break it down yo)
You got hip-hop, then you got hip-pop
Hip-pop? (hip-pop)
Alright, (but a lot of cats want pop)
Yes, (know what I'm sayin')
It used to be real hip
You got the top 40 version of hip-hop
I still got something else, something else that I wanna get off my chest
What? (know what I'm sayin'?)
[Verse 3: One Be Lo]
How many cats you know speak the ill-legit rhyme after rhyme diligent?
85 percent represent ignorant
Either you innocent or guilty
Some of my favourite emcees fell off
It damn near killed me
Looking at the kids that was true hip-hop
Nowadays, them cats don't even do hip-hop
Rap got 'em brainwashed with cats that don't last
And five minutes of fame, that's when it's a shame
Seeing real emcees trying to imitate rappers
If you ask me they going out ass backwards
Trading in respect to push a fat Lex
Puff rhyming on the remix, what's next?
It hurts so bad I wanna smack 'em
My favourite crew members break up, turn around and join whack ones
This is dedicated to you hip-hop hypocrites
Driving whack songs like you don't give a shit
I ain't got nothing against nobody trying to make a decent living
It ain't the money that's the issue
Only if that's the reason why these cats are making decent music
That's when I got beef with you
And I'ma break it to you like never
Go ahead, call me player hater if it make you feel better
Try to jump my crew if you cats feel froggy
You need to wake up and smell the damn coffee