| Once upon a time ago, long before commercialized
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| Beats became sysnthesized and little girls were mezmerized
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| There was one mic and one light in a hip-hop shack
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| And you moved the masses or they moved you out the back
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| Slack with the skills and you’ll never pay the bills
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| Buying up the brands with the octaginal frills
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| But when a brother flexed, we called him the Flexor
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| Beats were the melody, lyrics were the texture
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| Rhymes were webbed and the Serch light got stuck in
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| So follow for the record or keep keep on truckin'
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| Maybe you need the method of finding what the vibe is
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| Recollect the whole nine just like the Prince of Tides did
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| Playing what’s funny with Muhammed, Tip, and Phife
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| It’s keeping it alive, not a dive from the live
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| But the dead so selector rewind
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| To the scenes that are imprinted in my mind
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| Recollect, the recollections, recollect
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| The recollections, recollect
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| The recollections, recollect
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| The scenes from the mind
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| Swing with the groove that got you swinging from the rafters
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| 808 state for the kids to the gafflers
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| Make an impact the community can check for
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| And if you’re on the legend tip, nuff respect for
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| Coming back to the crew and not to every but T-shirt
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| Every lunchbox, wack record, don’t give a damn
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| Fan club, yabba dabba doo dud
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| You can make the fattest record yo, and still be crud
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| Brothers want to keep you in the heart where the home is
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| Where the dome is and definitely where the microphone is
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| Serch knows the one light is bright and don’t stench and
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| Don’t bend, so friend, I’ll send the flowers to
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| The funeral home of the hip-hop devoured by the
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| Mass appeal, you get the seal of removal
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| Not approval, cause only Woodsy Owl gives a hoot
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| So nice casket nice suit
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| Loot can be got for the long haul by the six recs
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| Down the road and you can still hit the long ball
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| Out of there, over there to the spectators in aisle nine
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| Who ain’t heard Quest when they told them «Check the Rhyme»
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| I ain’t eating no green eggs and swine
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| I ain’t eating no green eggs and swine
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| I ain’t eating no green eggs and swine
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| As I recollect the scenes from my mind, flute time
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| Recollect, the recollections, recollect
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| The recollections, recollect
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| The recollections, recollect
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| The scenes from the mind (Repeat 2x)
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| Back to the mic to the stand to the light
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| ]From the globe to the lobe to the inner ear so all night
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| Different tracks can be heard in different arenas
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| For the clubs, the heads, the rides, the Beemers
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| Somebody starts checking for the fact Serch is long gone
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| So I rip clubs from LA to Strech Armstrong
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| Along the tribal road we lose parts too easily
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| So I say peace to Eric and Beasly
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| Bobbito and the '97 street crew
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| Sec Lover, my brother Honululu
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| Which and proper Tom is the call for the firm grips
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| Serch fixes his rhymes, shoots 'em on the sperm tip
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| Milky is the flow, I hope it stays protected
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| A&R gets respect for being more selective
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| Cause gone are the days of the deaf, dumb, and brain dead
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| And I close the book on the scenes from the head
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| Recollect, the recollections, recollect
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| The recollections, recollect
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| The recollections, recollect
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| The scenes from the mind (Repeat 2x) |