...down 155th in the MCM Snorkel - Shabazz Palaces

We was

Escaping the bleak, pursuing a feeling

Pressure pushed them towards the instinct of brilliance

Capture then scraping the breaks off to build songs

They was in the park up between the buildings

And they dancing face like «ah-hah» and «mm-hmm»

Voice would echo, calling--slap off the buildings

Anticipating ceremony to begin

Food provided by the neighborhood dealers

They phrase nothing-words like «biting» and «chilling»

«Biting» meant that you was stealing and illing

And so thusly you were def’ly not «chilling»

They wouldn’t fuck with you just fuck with the real ones

We had sayings called like «52s» and «fair ones»

Ya’ll just got it on.

You think y’have to kill, huh?

Now it’s calibers, for bullshit you 'ere, huh?

And your music make us real niggas tear up

Now my girlfriend’s name in B-More was Triva

And her door knockers was bamboos, believe that

And our two-toned Lees of course they was creased up

Seen a god—Dapper Dan, down, and trucked up

The type of MC you be back then is «sucka»

Dons call ‘em honey dips

Gold and grey money clips

Selling out was not the lick

Covet not another’s clique

Wasn’t cool just cause you rich

Sit here, bang shots,

Black and Puerto Rican stars

Twin rock the baddest furs, Le Tigre polos, fitted shirts

Maximas was kitted up