Naledge - Dear Hip-Hop lyrics

[Hook] Dear hip-hop, please Don't you forget about little old me Oh, I'm just a little O.G And I done seen the game change up on me [Verse 1 – Chip tha Ripper] Way back in my day, when it was all about spitting music was crazy I f** with Nas and Master P was my Jay-Z Jigga was spitting but I couldn't understand it I knew it was some fly sh**, it just never landed 'Til I hit the ninth grade, by that time 50 done step in the game But I had been bumping that sh** from mixtapes And I got hip to Canibus in like sixth grade And that crazy motherf**er just took over my brain It's a little Big L in my raps today Even though he gone, nah, he ain't gone, you listening to him Just from reciting the lines you'd think that I knew ‘em Bumping that Redman not giving a f** about nothing Imagine if I was getting high, I wasn't even puffing Hiding the CD from my momma, sh** had too much cussing Baby I ain't gonna leave you for nothing Can you just write me back, please? [Hook] [Verse 2 – Naledge] I found the blueprint way before school was my hustle Beyond a reasonable doubt, I was a n***a with attitude Illmatic, no reason for me to be mad at you ‘Cause life is too short, even when you ready to die Picture this: a little n***a comin' up in the Chi Using common sense, give my mind a resurrection Though I used to love her, never lost my erection Underground king, po' pimpin' in the muddy waters It's just me against the world, get rich or die trying Three feet high and rising Now I see clear like vising; whoops, I mean Visine So far gone, plus I wanna be king Not a college dropout, seen graduation In my lifetime is just your imagination For now I'm just a lyricist lounging ‘til I reach my salvation Please [Hook] [Verse 3 – 6th Sense] Don't forget Super Nintendo, Sega Genesis I was ten years old with the flow I reminisce They called me White Mike before I became the 6th Hip-hop showed me love with a hug and a kiss Used to tape the radio when it was on late Used to cop mixtapes when they was on tapes You couldn't pull the wrong record out the wrong crate Truthfully, it used to seem every song's great Influenced your walk, fashion and your speaking Every third weekend, was at the Nuyorican I was underage so I used to have to sneak in Student of the game, open-minded for the teaching I paid dues, yeah, I knew dude's reaching I give a f** about the songs y'all leaking I'm done preaching, sip the Hennessey, burn the incense Dear hip-hop, yours truly, 6th Sense [Hook]