Uh, uh, uh, 1-2, 1-2
Uh, uh, 1-2, 1-2, uh, uh
All my dogs, 1-2, 1-2

It's bigger than hip-hop, hip-hop, hip-hop, hip
It's bigger than hip-hop, hip-hop, hip-hop, hip-hop, uh

One thing 'bout music when it hit you feel no pain
White folks say it controls your brain
I know better than that, that's game
Man, we ready for that
Two soldiers, head of the pack
Matter fact, who got the gat?
And where my army at?
Rather attack and not react
Back to beats, it don't reflect on how many records get sold
On sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll
Whether your project's put on hold
In the real world, these just people with ideas
They just like me and you when the smoke and cameras disappear
Again the real world, it's bigger than all these fake ass records
When poor folks got the millions and my woman's disrespected
If you check 1-2, my word of advice to you is just relax
Just do what you got to do, if that don't work then kick the facts
If you a fighter, rider, biter, flame-ignitor, crowd-exciter
Or you wanna just get high, then just say it
But then if you a liar-liar, pants on fire, wolf-crier, agent with a wire
I'm gon' know it when I play it

It's bigger than hip-hop, hip-hop, hip-hop, hip
It's bigger than hip-hop, hip-hop, hip-hop, hip-hop, uh

Who shot Biggie Smalls? If we don't get them, they gon' get us all
I'm down for runnin' up on them crackers in they city hall
We ride for y'all, all my dogs stay real
Nigga, don't think these record deals gon' feed your seeds
And pay your bills, because they not
MC's get a little bit of love and think they hot
Talkin' 'bout how much money they got
Nigga, all y'all records sound the same
I'm sick of that fake thug, R&B-rap scenario, all day on the radio
Same scenes in the video, monotonous material
Y'all don't here me though
These record labels slang our tapes like dope
You can be next in line and signed and still be writing rhymes and broke
You would rather have a Lexus or justice, a dream or some substance?
A Beamer, a necklace, or freedom
Still a nigga like me don't player-hate, I just stay awake
This real hip-hop and it don't stop
'Til we get the po-po off the block, they call it

Hip-hop, hip-hop, hip-hop, hip
It's bigger than hip-hop, hip-hop, hip-hop, hip
It's bigger than hip-hop, hip-hop, hip-hop, hip
It's bigger than hip-hop, hip-hop, hip-hop

DP's got that crazy shit, we keep it crunker
John Blaze-in' shit (what?)
DP's got that crazy shit, we keep it crunker
John Blaze-in' shit (what a nigga wanna do?)
DP's got that crazy shit, we keep it crunker
John Blaze-in' shit (1-2, 1-2)
DP's got that crazy shit, we keep it crunker
John Blaze-in' shit
DP's got that crazy shit, we keep it crunker
They call it
Fake (fake) records (records)


Lyrics submitted by the_king_in_yellow

Hip-Hop Lyrics as written by Gavin Clayton Andrew Mair

Lyrics © Royalty Network, Songtrust Ave

Lyrics powered by LyricFind

Hip hop song meanings
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    General Comment

    where all the real mcs at? they underground... real hip hop

    matth0llanderon October 04, 2006   Link

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