Goon Bap

I was a 80's baby raised in the 90's
I was barely touching 13 when shit got grimy
I had a ball head army fatigue hoodie
I thought I was Sticky Fingaz my
Fingers stayed in some pussy
Timbs on my feet my cypher complete
On a stolen BMX looking for a cypher to eat
In the staircases 40 bottles and dutch guts
Guns everywhere
Eyes burning from the dust blunts
I walk with warriors
Certified street fighters
Sour Patch Kids in the
Corners playing Street Fighter
No fathers around we let the streets guide us
Lost so many brothers yeah you
Know the streets got us
Thank god for Hip Hop for Kane
Big and Pac for Nas and Big L
Last Emp lived up the block
Black Thought made me believe I can make it
90's shit this was my education

Hip-hop vinyl and CD stores tought me
To put a needle on
A record, and learn English
When Garden of Eden gone
Graffiti walls were in my headphones
I wasn't street involved, I was writing
Or recording Yo! MTV Raps on my VCR
It was my drug, a couple of kids in my crew
Got death certificates from drugs
While I listened to Cube
When Black Moon told me to Enta da Stage
I wasn't waitin'
So studying Gang Starr was a Daily Operation
Felt alive among walking cadavers
Hip-hop was all that would matter
Life was a bitch
But Nas was dropping Illmatic
Kris Kross fan, backwards pants
Tough on the bladder
And 90's beats were harder than
Bob Dole poppin' Viagra
Shit would erupt, daily 12 inches were copped
Rappers in the 90's left it
To Lewinsky to suck
Real hip-hop will glow forever
Pray that I will flow forever
My religion is rap
Thank God for the golden era