My Backpack The MC Type (Ft. Prof)

Rap is something you do
Hip hop is something you are
Traumatic echo

Yo, check it out, I'm rapping right now
How many syllables can I fit into this sentence right now
And even though it's written I'ma go free style right now
Free Style:
Rest in peace mainstream
I'ma RIP you into pieces like Pangaea
Yeah
Our earthquakes that quake the earth into earthshakes that make you squirm
Turntables
The four elements come together like the president
Named Air Force One, KRS One
If I impress one rapper I did my job
Except my job is to live with my mom
I'm bomb, you are terrorist, without me you don't exist
You are pissed that I'm so good at this
My consciousness expands to a million conscientiousnesses
I've got one mistress, her name is hip hop
I only love her to piss off my in-laws
Don't get it wrong, I write these songs
But I have a secret weapon that I brought along:

This is my backpack, check out its straps
This is real rap, none of that crap
This is my backpack, it has my rhyme book
That's how I wrote this, this is my hook
This is my backpack, it has CDRs
When you hear my fast rap you'll be seeing stars
This is my backpack, check out my backpack
It is my backpack, it's not yours