Juicy Scott Bradlee's Postmodern Jukebox (Ft. Maiya Sykes)

You know very well
Who you are
Don't let them hold you down
Reach up for the stars
If you have that goal
But not that many
'Cause you're the only one
That gives you good and plenty

Well it was all a dream, I used to read Word Up! magazine
Salt-n-Pepa and Heavy D up in the limousine
Hangin' pictures on my wall
Every Saturday Rap Attack, Mr. Magic, Marley Marl
I let my tape rock 'til my tape popped
Smoking on Bambu, sippin' on Private Stock
Way back, when I had the red and black lumberjack
With the hat to match
Remember Rappin' Duke? Duh-ha, duh-ha
You never thought that hip hop would take it this far
Now I'm in the limelight 'cause I rhyme tight
Time to get paid
Yes god bless the World Trade
Born sinner, the opposite of a winner
Remember when I used to eat sardines for dinner
Peace to Ron G, Brucey B, Kid Capri
Funkmaster Flex, Lovebug Starski
Blowing up like you thought I would
Call the crib, same number, same hood
It's all good, it's all so good
And if you don't know, now you know, you know