Verse 1 (Klinik):
So many years of my life, where I was walkin' round hopeless
Not knowin' if I was weird or if I just lacked focus
Because I didn't play sports when the kid was growing
I was raised on Abbey Road, Ziggy Stardust by Bowie
Played guitar in 3rd grade, learned Nirvana, learned some Rage
But didn't fit in at school, cuz I was on a different page
Than these other cats, plus I was bumpin' real rap
Before Master P taught you how to m-m-m-m-m-make crack like this
Words can't even describe how I'd feel
When I put my ol' man's headphones on my ears
The turntable spins with the equalizer near
I'd spend my time right here, until the night appeared
Bought my first record player round 7th grade
Mowin' yards in the summer, bitch I'm gettin' paid!
I knew with music I would truly never get betrayed
I could use it as a tool to never do charades
Like these fools at my school that was gettin' played
Bitch my crew knew the rules so my clique was straight
I didn't understand, neither didn't anyone else
Till I saw that dusty record, pulled it off of the shelf

Verse 2 (Klinik):
Just know my beatpad's a disasterous weapon
I've mastered the lessons I've crafted, now I'm causin' armageddon
Step up in the session, nerdy dude is your first impression
No second guessin', I'm blessin' the buttons when I be pressin' em
And spit that venom when I see the stage lit up
The type of shit that makes the old man in the back even get up
I understand that everyone's tryna build hype
But most the little guys is really where all the skill lies
I steal mics if it comes down to it
Cuz we're talkin' bout my life, bitch this ain't just music, I do this!
Groovin' with the best friend I've ever had
Who was there when I was mad, lonely, broke, and sad
Glad, and happy and every emotion inbetween
The main reason whey I even started blowin' trees!
Yeah I was listenin' to all of my idols
Up in the crib, hittin' spliffs while I was spinnin' some vinyl
Young age, blunts blazed once I reached high school
Record collection bustin' out the seams, chillin' in my room
It'd fuck you up if I pulled out a mixtape
That I made in the sixth grade, I guarantee it'd still play
Bumpin' The Misfits, Ten Yard Fight, Gorilla Biscuits
Like Mos Def, I never fucked with Korn or Limp Bizkit
I didn't understand, neither did anyone else
Until I saw that beatpad and bought it off of the shelf

Verse 3 (Jaecyn Bayne):
Look, there wasn't textbooks or courses
Or Worldstar with all kind of videos imported
No Youtube, no Facebook or Twitter
Hell, we barely had computers in the schools we was given
I'm tellin' ya, shit's different, it's killin' the game
They said that Hip Hop was dead, it's still kinda in pain
Force-feeding the belly of the beast, such a feast
Unsaturated trap rap and over-basic beats
Companies money hungry, sacrificing creativity
Searchin' for food for thought, it's snacks that they givin' me
Seasoned it all wrong, needed salt but it's ginger-y
Ironically, that's what added insult to injury
Pimpishly gettin' over, exploitin' the whole culture
Snakes'll land the tactic, with the air they got vultures
I'm cultivated to make it tho, rose thru the era
Where even to touch the mic you needed grip and respected
Yeah, I like it how I remembered it
Not saying don't evolve, but evolve the beginner shit
Benefits of fundamentals, know the basics
And 1's gone but the league's still playin'
Let's step it up a notch, give the people what they lookin' for
That's cool in the club, I smoke to something different tho
Ride to something smooth that the radio don't spin to blow
I'm sayin' all of this to say I finally get the picture so!

*DJ Metrognome commences cuts*