It was the (beatboxing) that got me (beatboxing)
It was the (beatboxing), break (beatboxing), deflate
Cause I was gassed
Head over heels in love with the electric drums and spoken vocals
Which was the joke of locals
And laughing stock of my rock-and-roll-ass town
But the rhythmic acupuncture pierced my skin
Pinning the butterflies to my stomach
Which would flutter every time I heard the (beatboxing)
More than the (beatboxing metal)
I was no devil worshiper
Higher level interpreter
I refuse to lose focus and
Recite satanic verses with manic curses
Drug induced worst cause I knew they were saying
"Kill your mother" cause it paid them well
Yet in my flashback I see the foreshadow
Ironic twist, my first purchase was a hip-hop record called Raising Hell
I should have RUN when I had the chance
But DMC's made be wanna break dance
Made me wanna spin vinyl
Made me wanna graf write
Made me want to not act...White
And not to perpetuate any stereotype but
I was not about the mullet ice hockey haircut
You know the mullet
Short on top for the fellas
Long in back for the ladies, yeah
I was not about stonewashed nut-huggers
With the French rolls on the bottom
So tight that it turned my toes purple
Nor was I about the ripped jean jacket with the Megadeath, Metallica, and Slayer patch
I had an internal itch for the (beatboxing) and never
Could I get with (beeheew) guitar riff, the (beeheew) guitar riff
The (beeeeeeehhhhrrr)
I had Wild Style Wars
I rented Beat Street every week
As I Rocked Steady
Wearing out the play, rewind, and slow mo buttons on my VCR
I did the pause-play, pause-play, pause-play, pause-play- all day
Forced my way into comprehension of inner city invention
For me was in the expression
Which would eventually win me acception (one exception)
Those around me couldn't give me affection
But I played and paid that video attention until eventually
I completely bit the (beat boxing)
I found my new religion
Born again b-boy
Born to destroy decoys and be the real McCoy, yeah boy!
I wore the clock so YOU could know the time
Chuck D told me to keep a sober mind
And even though his sidekick liked the flava of BASE
I swear to God, hip-hop was about being drug free
I swore to God hip-hop was about the upliftment of humanity
And I swore to God hip-hop was what rock was not was what rock
Was not, was not pop (pop! pshhhh)
Guess I was gassed
See I remember when Dr. Dre use to Express himself
About hating The Chronic
A few years later he's endorsing it while drinking gin and tonic
Suburbanites that blast Ma$e learn their mad face from Onyx
It was a rat race the first to properly use ebonics
Dynamite like JJ, but it was a Fad like Supersonic
Hip-hop flipped from being artistic to a pop hit
Mainstream took control and we cannot stop it
It's a Black art being manipulated by White controllers
Just like rock and roll is
We took the (beatboxing)
We took the (beatboxing)