Life Support - Rhyme Asylum

It’s funny how I fell in love with my first YO

Blood, sweat, tears in every verse wrote

With every word spoke but I’ll do this music

If I’ll earn dough or I was dirt broke

Lyrical exercise but people respect the grind

More than they respect the rhymes

We make sure the names of all the heads that died

Will always be kept alive and how long will they mourn me?

Everyday until the end of time

Look at the legacy they left behind

The one love to the lyricists that still exist

Cause I couldn’t picture this

(It was all a dream)

Before it was thoughts i’d seen

When I close my eyes and fall asleep but now I’m living it

This rapping shit ain’t a passing phase

Cause the habit is hard to break, I can’t escape

I put my soul in every rhyme that I write

(Big L rest in peace)

Cause ripping mics is the light of my life

I’ve been fed up and my stomach is cramped

The scene has practically vanished but my hunger is back

And classics are haphazard, all I see is backpackers, whack rappers

Black hatters and backstabbers as if that matters

When we’re out laying the ground breaking foundations like jackhammers

Miss ripping ciphers at open mics

It’s a lifestyle, we rock our clothes oversized

Inspired as an adolescent

By Roc Raida on cross faiders

Scratching with battle weapons

It’s my passion, banging the beats

For DJs and b-boys and the graff on the streets

This is hop hop music’s in the vision

Bringing you back to boombap fused with super-lyricism

I’m still a fan of this shit far from marital bliss

But I’mma stick with it till I’m carried by six

What happened to Em?

What happened to bis

Will I be the next rapper to slip?

(crazy)

No better way of expressing myself

See there’s hip hop then there’s everything else

We go against the grain, change the game

And we pave the way while you stay the same

So pay homage, the difference is

We give to this hip hop shit, not take from it

Every word in the pad, every verse every track

Word till the verge of collapse

Never turning my back, my life is hip hop

Live, breathe, spit, bleed, and die for hip hop

How much time is left?

Hip hop’s not dead, it’s dying

And this here is its final breath