Make ‘em clap to this nAttempt to motivate the activistsnThe buzz about town (will) produce volts to power your ampnReign it in – damp roots will blossom nA few were talkin’ ‘bout the sprout when the Two were still AwesomenSun lit the sky and identified the Scion n’95 burns hot in the hearts of rap puristsn“Put in on,” big brother, transformnMy generation of b-b-bubblers has gone flat over timenDaily distractions of the 8-track mindnIf I stray, punch me out, for real – be on the button nBut word to La Rock, swear you aint gon’ stop for nothin’ nMecca bound with the 4-pound – promisin’ yall the payoffnThe black steel rocker throughout the age of chaosnAnd brothers on my jock for the way I hold itnTake it in, cousin – this right here’s the momentnStill “steppin’ to the a.m.”nA half pace short of dawn-break – you take trade in’s?nStakes is high – my mistakes ante up with the bestn“Stay alive, all thing’s will change around” – ahh yeahnYou’re test of faith will make mountains outta rock pilesnThe ‘voodoo child’ will chop itnJimi’s diggin’ cats – Mr. Hancock. ‘Rock It,’nAnd affluence influenced the hustle, I can’t knock itnBelieve me if you wanna, but I’ll tell you this muchnI bet you all your dough they live longer than us, becausenOnly the good die at age 29n‘My Philosophy’ was born in a ‘New York State of Mind’nConfined on the island with no moral supportnTo make a long story short – it’s 8 million others in the citynAnd you prolly aint got time for this onenYou keep checkin’ the shine on your wrist, son…nnChorus:nnBum rush the platform, son – doors are closin’ nWhen time’s frozen, you don’t wanna be latenDepartin’ sharp for one last run to get you open nI’ll forever hold my token, stand post by the gate (X2)nnThey said ‘never no more,’nBut it seems the suckas teamed up to hold courtnThe 6-man providin’ relief for any starter nCount stats by the quarter – we’re takin’ back the ordernI swear upon the text of the revelation of Kings nFrom Hollis, Queens – learned to walk without stringsnEasy on the cut – no mistakes allowednCause to me, “MC” means “mentor the child”nStep into the realm and you’re bound to get taughtnTell me Grand Verbalizer; what time the lesson start?nSharpenin’ my tip so my mark’s made heavy and dark nIndelible upon your skeletal partsnThe apprentice to the mad scientist up in the lab nIt’s the art form – these scars were born under scabsnEvidence of life represented by the ankh nThe body returns to dust; the soul to the South Bronx…nnChorus nn