Blu - Back To Basics Hip Hop's Alarm Clock lyrics

Somebody asked me what exactly Ima
Do for black music i told em Ima chop it up
Loop it and rap to it
I'm a conscious slash average black human
But see I'm from the street
So you know i gotta keep that ass movin
I passed numerous tests without using a tech
A crack movie, a school of hard knocks grad
Student that you should respect
Not cause of my crucial connects
But cause I rap fluently

Ask any dude in the west i put in work
Like cats payin' dudes with a check
Actin cool, but your just foolin' your set
I'm a vet like Pat Ewing
And I blaze more Knicks than Reggie Miller
You kids doing the same old
Shit and never differ
But, I beg to differ, fuck a pardon
I'm charging the industry like a
Sergeant for pimpin' these artists
Leave the talking to the grown-ups
Regardless if your so what you sold out
Trying to hold clout and hold
Bucks in the same hand

When I was young I once
Grew up like Ice Cube
And blew up like right
Times changed and so did the west
Now I'm older now, I found me a nice crew
Some tracks I could write to
My mind grew and so did my set
Now it's time to respect
Them West Coast great vets
Pouring blood, sweating tears
Plus the years they invest
Ya'll showing disrespect like you
Ain't heard us my story grounds in Cali
Bound and I ain't been served once
Kickup my feet ann burn blunts
Bumping Snoop in the coupe
Reminiscing of the time when I
Was stuck in my youth

Moving house to house, in and out of cities
Pretty kid and I was witty city slicking
Steal some Diddy shit
I miss when we used to play Wu Tang
In the whoop bang capital
Where niggas grow up with
That shooting range attitude
Gang banging and doing things that
They ain't have to do
But, I was just a little man
Looking out my window pane
Chilling with the rapping crews
After school getting brain spitting flames
Attackin fools actin cool tagging on the bus
Talking bout I never do it for the bucks
But fuck that all changed once my first
Check came you know

Yo, record labels used to ask me
Ey yo how we supposed to market an artist
That raps conscious and street
Comin' from Cali i told them rap music used
To speak for it'self just put it out
Niggas feel the heat comin' off
The shelf without sellin out
This is for my niggas out spitting
Skipping house to house
Living on they best friend's couch
We out busting just to build up some clout
But the rap game is stuck in a drought
Cause these rappers stopped rapping
They just running they mouth
Bout shit they don't have
While the shit in my pad is hot
As the sun in the south
I'm giving all that I have
For a little recognition

For the times I spent scribbling
My thoughts across pages
For the latest, greatest
Those who never made it
And every guy that got me
On they iTunes playlist
For the Bridgetown playas
The fly chicks that played us
Divine forces wake up showing
Friday night flavas this is for y'all