[Intro]
Sample: “I’ve got a group of songs that I’m going to spin for you guys, for our audience, that have to do with a very important element in today’s music, the fact that music says something about things - who we are, where we are , where we’re going, where we’ve been. It’s not fantasy music, it’s not ‘You have a silver horse and I have a golden mule and we can start a magic farm’ or something. But, it’s about real life situations. Sometimes I get the opinion, after I watch the political popularity charts go up and down and sideways, and I see these things that people are willing to buy and do, I think that a 13 year old who buys a record may be exercising just as intelligent a choice as her parents are when they do more important things. “
[Verse 1]
On a Saturday afternoon in early 1989
In a grocery store of all places, I finally lost my mind
It was the find of a lifetime, or, at least it was for me
One copy left – Tougher Than Leather – Run-DMC
It was everything to me and I was just eleven years old
I was just breaking out of my mold – in two seconds I was sold
I’d never heard it before but I had to have it and I took it straight home
I put that tape in my deck and I mic checked whenever I was alone
I learned every single word. Every beat. Every rhyme
I decided I was inclined to find Hip Hop of every kind
And it was a sign – an epiphany - the sort you read about in books
I got that Rap Traxx compilation for my birthday and I was hooked
[Verse 2]
Now this was back in the day and the style was so pure I could taste it
I wrote “Well my name is…” lyrics and learned to breakdance in the basement
I couldn’t place it because my musical favourites, yeah, they were always shifting
Mostly Weird Al, the radio and Top 40 from the 50s
I was well versed in the history of music, though
‘cause my parents understood the importance of it
And they exposed me to every genre that they could
It was all good but here was something brand new and exciting
A culture that far removed from my own life was quite inviting
So I started writing and reciting over cheap pause button breaks
I was making mixtapes of the greats and studying the skills of all the heavyweights
I could always separate the fakes from those who showed real devotion
Who was in it for the love and who was just going through the motions
[Verse 3]
Years passed and Hip Hop still gripped me like infection
I used every cent of my lunch money just to add to my collection
I had a pretty good selection; I’d say there was too many to count them
From Rakim to DU to, uh, Tribe Called Quest’s albums
And it was a challenge to find some of them ‘cause I lived so far away
But I had friends with bootleg Public Enemy, Stetsasonic, NWA
Not much radio play, so I spent my meager wages
Based on reports from The Source, Word Up!, and Rap Pages
There have been major changes through the ages
And two new styles have developed :
Honest underground music and those who use it just to sell it
And by underground I don’t just mean the ones on indie labels…
I mean the ones with mic skills and the ones who push the bounds of turntables
[Verse4]
This other kind blows my mind and makes my stomach churn
It seems that yearning turned to earning cash as fast as it’ll burn
And, yeah, there’s something to be said for, you know, flashing moms and dads
With cars and mansions and money ‘cause to them it was always just a fad
But beyond that, it’s a sad string of cookie cutter MCs
Monotone flowing - not even knowing their rhymes are empty
Maybe it’s a natural progression and completely unintentional
That it’s all completely conventional – completely one dimensional
It’s demented; still, it happened to nearly every other style
After a while the path splits and it separates by miles
Between the people doing it for airplay and the people doing it from their hearts
The people doing it their own way to give shape to a beautiful art
[Verse 5]
I started writing this as a requiem ‘cause Hip Hop culture is being pimped
By Hollywood and the media like a dancing circus chimp
News organizations are passing out memos on how to talk more street
And here’s something kind of neat
You can try with the next person that you meet:
Ask them to do an impression of a rapper
They’ll act like a fucking idiot
The stereotype works both ways and I’ve got to say I pity it
But anyway, I was writing this and traveling all the way back in time
Through all my favourite artists, back to that day in ‘89
I’m finding that my favourites today are all recent examples
Of perfection in lyrics, beat production and killer samples
So this really isn’t a requiem – it’s more of a celebration
Of the creation of an underground modern Hip Hop generation
