[Intro: Chrisette Michele]
Hip Hop
It will never die
Hip Hop
It will never, never die
[Verse 1: Nas]
Ghetto nigga strutting, with nothing but dreams in Queens broke
Mac-10s, you can smell the PCP smoke
Melle Mel told it real, in the music he wrote
Those were the days I remember, we used to be close
Then I was nine, coldest winter I remember
Was slipping in December, two feet of snow
Yeah, that's the East Coast, that black ice
Symbolize the rap life, it was slick and smooth
I understood I had to come from the hood
Doing the Pee Wee Herman, the Smurf
Before them phones chirped
The block's drugs flowing, didn't have your own work
You had to have somebody else's, a small chrome on your pelvis
Starter jacket, Blue Georgetown or Green Celtic
Your girl's too expensive, she want shellfish
Red Lobster was popping, standing on that line forever
I wish somebody would step on my Bally leathers
Now it's whatever
Hip Hop's forever
Kept my radio on 98 or BLS
Had a pre-pubescent lyric gift, but niggas never hear me spit
My little brother tried to warn them, I was a tornado coming
He knew from inside like the eye of a storm, and told my pops about it
He gave us tickets to that Wild Style flick
Double Trouble retarded, we was the proudest
I never had a summer job
Sweeping leaves, socks to my knees
Home-made shorts, cut off Lee's
I ain't work a day in my life
Wiping away eraser off the paper, man
I'm just trying to say it right
Big radio, tape's slowing down
Lower the lights go, battery dead
I got to freeze them 'till they're ice cold
In the freezer later, I'm staring at the speaker
Sunk in them 808s deeper, cleaning my sneakers
With the bristles of a toothbrush, soap and water
I let the shoestrings soak in water
Hip Hop
It will never die
Hip Hop
It will never, never die
[Verse 1: Nas]
Ghetto nigga strutting, with nothing but dreams in Queens broke
Mac-10s, you can smell the PCP smoke
Melle Mel told it real, in the music he wrote
Those were the days I remember, we used to be close
Then I was nine, coldest winter I remember
Was slipping in December, two feet of snow
Yeah, that's the East Coast, that black ice
Symbolize the rap life, it was slick and smooth
I understood I had to come from the hood
Doing the Pee Wee Herman, the Smurf
Before them phones chirped
The block's drugs flowing, didn't have your own work
You had to have somebody else's, a small chrome on your pelvis
Starter jacket, Blue Georgetown or Green Celtic
Your girl's too expensive, she want shellfish
Red Lobster was popping, standing on that line forever
I wish somebody would step on my Bally leathers
Now it's whatever
Hip Hop's forever
Kept my radio on 98 or BLS
Had a pre-pubescent lyric gift, but niggas never hear me spit
My little brother tried to warn them, I was a tornado coming
He knew from inside like the eye of a storm, and told my pops about it
He gave us tickets to that Wild Style flick
Double Trouble retarded, we was the proudest
I never had a summer job
Sweeping leaves, socks to my knees
Home-made shorts, cut off Lee's
I ain't work a day in my life
Wiping away eraser off the paper, man
I'm just trying to say it right
Big radio, tape's slowing down
Lower the lights go, battery dead
I got to freeze them 'till they're ice cold
In the freezer later, I'm staring at the speaker
Sunk in them 808s deeper, cleaning my sneakers
With the bristles of a toothbrush, soap and water
I let the shoestrings soak in water
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