Letra That Ol' Boom Bap de Apathy original
Way back in the day before the age of gold chains and fat fades When Zulu Nation was still called the Black Spades A fetus was formed. A genius was born Adidas was worn. And pieces of your speakers was torn I used to fiend for mics like and addict for rocks The baddest on blocks who'd rock till the static would stop Herbs beating me with words was absurd Like traffic cops who cocked semi-automatic Glocks to pop Stetsosonic was hot. Kwame was not I wore out the shell tops that copped when Planet Rock dropped From Ultramag MC's to JB to BDP and KMD I learned to MC Crumple it up, scratch it out, think it over Spit it over and over the instrumental to The Bridge Is Over I was funky, fresh dressed to impress Got it made with the words that I manifest You'll never dismantle the best. Give your mandibles a rest I eat mics I bless like a cannibal with flesh Still number one like It's KRS With my whole name written across my chest And it goes, A for accurate. P for poetry A for the automatic respect you're showin me T for the tight lyrics and H cuz shit is hot And last but not least Y....why not (hook x4) With the kicks, snares, kicks and hi hats Still in the trade of that ol' boom bap Let's meet up in the Bronx with Cyrus for a meeting Before he started speaking, they blasted him leaving him bleeding And everybody running, searching for escape Twenty years later I'm making moves trying to push a demo tape And it's relative. This hip hop scene is too negative Amped up and wild, take a sedative Back in the past when Grandmaster Flash started to scratch, They perfected the art of the raps Taking a part of the wax, make it the heart of the track Now it