Psyonik – C'mon Son Lyrics

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Niggas say that hip-hop is dead
Niggas say that hip-hop is never coming back
Uh-uh, I can't believe that

Hip Hop's my honey, you could send the bee back
Relapse, back to the classics
All these punchline rappers in a pickle - Vlasic
Ornamental flowers, decoration
Talk about they swag like the declaration

Where the independence
I ain't hear about it
Rumor spreader trying to whisper in my ear about it
Run and tell everybody, messenger
No one knows the one position where we messed it up
Testing us... I mean like every day
We're supposed to live
Every word we say
...Every word we say
Twelve step programs, thirty days
And we fall off the path, through the curves we take
Success is measured by the number of the nerves we shake
And we shake a lot -
That's why it's such a disappointment when we fake a lot
Talk about your bricks
Why don't you make a block?
Forward progression is the only way to hater block
The only way to hate a block...
Nigga...

KRS-One:
When you ask me about Hip-Hop...
You're asking a philosopher about something that he believes he is

Hip Hop is an idea. You can't wear Hip-Hop, you can't put it on
You can't buy a can of Hip-Hop, you can't drink a can of something
And suddenly become Hip-Hop

Hip-Hop is an IDEA... Think about this

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