The Beatnuts - The Legends lyrics

[VERSE] Eyo it's Deji comin back again to save the day I'm on the right path, not needing anyone to pave the way I've slaved to make a great display, your favourite now has came to stay Amazing how I grace the place and never have to take the pay I'm spittin with no limitations but I got no inner-patience For whack rappers and imitations, hating them fakers Reppin the patrons making innovations, not the paper chasers What I say from pages aims to make some major statements In terms of laymans, I've got a lot to say And I lay it in a way that makes it sound as hot as cajun Nah I'm not playing, I'm homage paying. Sk**s not fading N' I'm still ageing. Still, this sh** is pure, so you can smell the fragrance A brute, a sadist, still I have to pay respect. Salute the greatest Who made it on my playlist, yeah my favourites You may find it strange to hear me say this cause the game is Competitive, but there's some cats, you just gotta know the name of So this goes out every single legend, residing in heaven And the underground veterans, that's alive in the present To all the cats spittin raps that's reviving the essence And those staying true to the game, livin life as some peasants Cause you can be perfection. Number one in your profession But somethings wrong, the fame and ends you get ain't no reflection It's question-less, forget the quest to best the rest Just get respect. Cause rec-execs only sell records that the press requests And copyright's retarded, cause how this Hip Hop got started Was from rappers sampling from other artists on the market Now it's illegal, rappers starvin. But the art has been adopted By the labels using it to make a lot of profit Dont give a damn about honesty, spitting from the heart Instead they give the dollars to sellouts and put them on the charts They ain't got no respect for us, they only want their stars That's why I made this track, to give back and honour ours [HOOK] [VERSE] Man it's not right. The proper artists ain't gettin the spotlight No cash in the pot, man us rappers need to stop'n'strike A lot of hype gets built around the name that we created But we get no fame, it seems we ain't even affiliated It's silly, ain't it? Labels being evil Scheming and stealin the name of Hip Hop to cover up what they feedin people These feeble people easily believe the credo And see weak MC's with egos as what all MC's must be, yo But not me, though. I keep it real, never steal But in this day and age, man, who the f** will that appeal? I ain't gettin a deal quick, sh**, not even a meal ticket But I'll never change my style just so I can get it It seems like I'm just venting and tryna relieve the tension But I have other intentions, man I think we need an intervention Can't even begin to mention the names that come to attention When I think about the legends we're to thank for this invention Kool Herc for backspins and for rappin And we have to thank Grand Wizzard Theodore for scratchin. And that's a fact, man Back when Rakim was craftin, we were all just learnin But now the game is filled with vermin A&R's that ain't discerning And Biggies turnin in his grave to see the sh** thats earnin 2Pac wouldn't be happy bout that hologram for certain And it's concerning but it's seriously clear, labels have been puppeteering us for years And that's the way it is [HOOK] [VERSE] And yo, I might be king of this rappin sh** I may have mastered it. But the fact is, I just adapted it Essentially I saw the essence and mentally captured it So I only managed it thanks to MC's in the past that crafted it When a rapper that's an actor and Glamour magazine lander Fashion tip hander, routine dancer advancing more cash than bankers Handed time in the slammer for drink driving through Alabama I laugh until they bail out and earn more Grammy's than Santana This kinda dramas for publicity A trick to the kids that's looking up and seeing them as the epitome They ain't sh** to me. I keep an underground level Like I must've found the devil and that sh** makes me sound like a rebel I am and I'd like to give props - out loud to them True heads of Hip Hop, yeah, all 50,000 of them The ones that ain't just out to make cream Cause getting heard is the main dream not catering to the mainstream I understand the scheme, the plans to live the lavish dream Get out the rags and tatted jeans, but keep originality I like to spit reality, don't emphasise the fallacies Sometimes my rhymes are violent with more energy than calories I have no salary but that sh** don't matter to me Ma plans to be the baddest MC and have rappers flattering me And be a part of Hip Hop cause it's a part of me And make my livin spittin, men and women givin props to me [HOOK]