Classical art

Duration

3:52

Genres

Hip-Hop

Description

Lyrics

Classic, Mo Art, Evolution of rap(Hip Hop), I spit ACID, to plaster, on the canvas to create a CLASSIC like a Master of magic like Merlin's semantics sicker than rancid, or rabbit, or schizophrenic or a bubonic plague, or an AIDS patient to smash with, bear backing, on accident, masking no heart As dope as mozart, Hip Hop is Mo Art, the next level of you old farts throwing your slow darts Miss me, what is a rap artist without a Bentley Chris, strippers, and a semi, Timmy get retard sick, paraplegic, compared to a phoenix Dare to be Jebus, from the ashes rebirth, even classic needs words and clapping a verb, no words, the blasting is herd Uni means first, and verse is what I rehearse put together that universe so first was the word and then planet earth like magic its art, like science, its art, like math its art like beauty its art like the classical arts new replace the old ITS CLASSICAL ART THIS RAPPER GO HARD (MIKE'S VERSE) ITS CLASSICAL ART RIPPING RAPPERS APART (MIKE'S VERSE) (original hook is adlibs) , the man and merk, where man get murk, the sand and dirt, the panic planet, frantic granitic, your sands is dirt meaning you lack the nerve, nerd clap you off earth smack you back to birth, like classic and words maggot sandwich, The resurrection, insurrection heavenly blessings old money vs. new money traditional wine vs. new honey something different, to listen, in your expedition the porche jeep or the lincoln, tweetering intergalatical, tri lateral, catapult like green lantern glow, or a U.F.O. PYRAMIDS ON THE SEE FLOO I'm a Blow like C-4, Collect doe like C-notes, the po po are wierdos, I'm a go like repos, get info like neo The one, anomoly son, I stand you run I'm a man, your none, a lion you brunch titan you lunch but envy is me enemy, part of my inner me part of my energy free will I could squash beef or let it build we can let it live, or unleash a kill not Alicia and Shaqill, no celebs the field is real South Bronx 7ty trill, and the next year I appeared here evolved infinite sphere and it was a good year born in 1974 threw hip hop I'm forged it's hip hop's resurrection, like the son of god resurrection I'm a family man like a Mafia Tradition last of a dyeing herd, payback from the nerds while they get pampered and splurge the truth they would never learn Hip Hop's the answer to no lyric equations Jazz and Classical been waiting The bougouis been hating Those who ain't making, raking that bacon they been taking from our culture, exploiters hoarding, extortion, but complaining is boring forging a new world ordering web wide worlding of lyrical spit pouring, Hip Hop souring I believe I can fly, especially in a G-5 I believe in the SY, But don't believe I'm a die skeptic, eleptic, electric relic victory's in the air can you smell it let Hip hop tell it your traditions are your real relics old and decrepit, while the truth remains tested, and not bested, you just don't get it just move your pivot, can you smell it the blunts in the air, who cares who lit it and don't sip it, or baby sit it, hit it and then relinquish it, you know send it By: Saiforce