KutMasta Kurt - This is Street Music lyrics

[Marc Live] Check it out now, uhh Marc Live, KutMasta Kurt Episode two, yeah, "Attack of the Grunge," c'mon {*scratch: "Listen, to the situation my son"*} Yeah, this is the story, listen up, get ready {*scratch: "Listen, to the situation my son"*} {*scratch: "I'm as serious as cancer, all fun done"*} [Marc Live] I started out in ninety-three, check it When the game was the illest, you had to come with crazy flow Look, nobody had yo the doper dough We didn't speak on it, we drugged the beat and gained fiends from it Redman, C.L. and Pete Rock We threw the guns up, we tore the club up Three 6, way before the South, look And kids was freestylin, street corner battlin One blunt had 10 heads street whylin Palladium, Danceteria, {?} No politics, before The Source was named yo the street bible Before the rap game was cliques and clothing That's right - and Flex spun at Mars And played in the littlest bars Before Angie could rap - tell 'em Huh, and chicks got smacked for talkin a lot [Chorus: repeat 2X] They call it rap right, nah this is street music The street choose it, the hood need it, gutter love it The public want it, the kids use it I eat from it, listen I'ma speak on it [Marc Live] You see everybody's "King of New York" - that's right And every year kids pa** the title, every year kids are soft like Michael Uhh - label bought, never taught It's sad to see, they don't think they life through No advance, just a chain and a ga**ed brain At your mom's house, thinkin you a big name No a**ets, no house no whips The game got him hoein, the kids is not knowin It's not a fitted hat, shell-top Adidas and rap It's the block party, boombox, spin on your back It's the chain snatchin, drug dealers The gun clappin, close your spot, what happened? [Chorus] - 1/2 {*scratch: "Listen, to the situation my son"*} {*scratch: "s**er DJ's got somethin to say"*} {*scratch: "Listen, to the situation my son"*} {*scratch: "Rhymes are pathetic, they think they copacetic"*} [Marc Live] Yo I remember when nice kids had deals, no talent search No Star Search, yo you had to be real ill When it was about yo the beats and the sick flows No boats and yachts, no dopes and drops A promo budget was enough to Fill the streets and make the people love it And one producer didn't control the game And, cats made tracks and didn't care about the fame And dance music was the hardest beats And radio spun your wax, you didn't have to buy a week And cats showed love for bein in the game And not how many rastas stealin your chain And when a hot joint meant somethin Look, whether you signed or not, kids was still jumpin And when you sampled a track, somebody else did You was whack whether you sing or you steal raps [Chorus]