Hip-Hop (instrumental version) ​dead prez

Fake, fake records...

Uh, Uh, Uh, 1, 2, 1, 2
Uh, Uh, 1, 2, 1, 2, uh, uh
All my dogs
1, 2

It's bigger than hip hop, hip hop, hip hop, hip
It's bigger than hip hop, hip hop, hip hop, hip hop

Uh, one thing 'bout music, when it hit you feel no pain
White folks says it controls your brain - I know better than that, that's game
And we're ready for that two soldiers head of the pack, matter of fact who got the gat?
And where my army at? Rather attack and not react
Back the beats, it don't reflect on how many records get sold
On sex, drugs and rock and roll, whether your project's put on hold
In the real world, these just people with ideas
They just like me and you when the smoke and camera disappear
Again the real world (world), it's bigger than all these fake ass records
When poor folks got the millions and my woman's disrespected
If you check 1,2, my word of advice to you is just relax
Just do what you got to do, if that don't work then kick the facts
If you a fighter, rider, biter, flame ignitor, crowd exciter
Or you wanna just get high, then just say it
But then if you a liar-liar, pants on fire, wolf-cry
Agent with a wire, I'm gonna know it when I play it