Let's take it back to the seventies

When Rap was born and made emcees.

But before they could even bless the Mic

It would be the DJ that rocked the night

From the Message that rained down from Sugar Hill

To the beat from chic that spun the wheel

When the Godfather & Ms. Summer ruled the dance floors

It would be a mighty Blow from Harlem to break down the doors

Similar to the Chuck Taylor's that graced the league

Those fresh adidas, name belts, cazels & Lees would RUN our emcees

Puma windbreakers, box tops and boom boxes

Broke windmills, head spins and pop lockers

Paper Thin emcees got ripped like nickel bags

Looking up into the Lyte, defeated; Cramming to Understand

B-Boys gathered for blocks & blocks

Breakdancin' and freestylin' as My Radio jammed the boom box

Too many got laid down in the West

Too many hot bullets pierced too many black hearts

Yet one bold young brother, kept on screamin'

Life is Too Short!

The Government, C. Delores Tucker, the President and Bob Dole

Set out to censor the rap game & claim their own fame.

But they got the Gas Face

Fools this is Our Thing!

-ANTWAN 'ANT' BANK$