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art of rap - string theory lyrics

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[verse 1: halfcut]
a true master like pete rock that love when the beat knock
i’m hip-hop from my fitted down to my reeboks the art of rap
laying down your vision on a track
while these dj’s dig for wax like some ancient artifacts
running laps ’round these cats like the record?
chin checking ’em if they don’t know what game they getting in
(yo!) if my pen’s painting pictures and projecting them
then i guess this beat’s a two way mirror my thoughts reflected in
got me questioning who on top and who’s electing them
cause no one’s touched my raps ever since i first perfected them
back in the day as a youngin’ growing up doing shows
no one showing up now we got the crowd going buck
i’m a beast the type to pull the pin out with my t–th
explosive launch grenades in the middle of the streets
yo peace to all my homes rising up from underneath
stay hungry for them beats and get prepared for the feast

[verse 2: hex one]
these frauds is taunted by fate but me i’m haunted by the artists i ate
i live my thoughts beyond a dollar sign’s weight
beside a dotted line’s fake peons without a grind personify hate
you must be out of mind if i don’t rhyme great we shine eons duke
get your face mushed we apes on these strange cuts
so wake up and cop the tape for eight bucks you snake f-cks
we only let you skate once it sucks get your stage flushed
it’s straight but isn’t making the place jump it ain’t us
the flows we bust is dope enough to make the jakes rush
like michelange a master with the paint brush
back in the day i just sat in cl-ss crafting a page
packing rage like a rabid phantom trapped in a cage
now i’m a monster charged with spittin’ rhymes and mantras
equipped with arms like nicaraguan contras
call the doctors for these minors trying to live this art of rap
ironic how this beat can give a heart attack (word’em up son)

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