Rap is something we do; hip-hop is something we live!
Back in days, blessed to live long enough to offer praise
Old school jams…..where Apache and Bongo beats played,
Coming of age, in the crux of culture refined in my time
I ran from park to park, not to play, you see I was DJ fan
Giving out flyers for Herc (my hero), who acknowledged me, 2b
To the Nation of Islam, Bam and Zulu, to valley cats DJ Breakout & Baron too!
Yes the origins of hip-hop came out in the park doing it until after dark
Actually brought about by all the power in 1977 going out,
Which is funnily recalled as the first “Black Friday”, although a Tuesday night
The heir was electricity, as you can tell later on by all them fat gold cables
Nah back where I’m from it was t-shirts and sneakers, hustlin’ and freakin’
The plug up was to street lamps was so teenagers kept step in movements
A stones throw from Cedar Park, word travels fast of jams and battles cultivating
Living high up in the sky before Jeffersons had moved on up, I was a Towers resident
True old heads will know this flow, fo’ sho’, as I could hear DJ Blackjack battlin’ Herc again!
Hyped before it was a word, word up all I knew was I was down to get on up!
Bustin moves and even breaking, on cardboard or cement, it didn’t even really hurt
Love affairs started by grinding up on Clara from down around 1520 Sedgewick
All I know was the Grove Line in movement and her arms around me signaling approval
Glad to be hearing your cut-up favorite sounds and rare classics, like, Scratchin’
I can still hear them @sss kickin’ home made speakers, echo chambers, mixing Geminis
My eyes watched Whippy-Whip, cut it up, or DJ Hollywood let the elders Do the Hustle
Anticipating break parts like they was my relative, I learned where they stayed….
Flashlights, stopping to freeze, dancing in crews to take out other crews….bustin’ moves!
Down under the El train to the Sparkle, lighting joints and feeling mellow,
Sneaking in to adult clubs to hear Love-Bug Starski and his fine sister Champagne
Sometimes not even coming home, I was addicted… to Hip Hop!
For recovery, I acquired my own turntables, cutting up “Aint We Funky Now”, until…
Mama used to say, “boy let the record play, and stop rewiring my speakers….”
Hip-Hop was my freedom, opening my world past rhythm & blues and other instinctive travels…
You know the rules….rap is something you did, BUT HIP HOP IS SOMETHING THAT LIVES!
PEACE to KRS-ONE (KNOWLEDGE RULES SUPREME)…….ONE
This flashback was brought about on August 11th Hip-Hop’s Official Anniversary!
2b is and has become many things, but the real hip-hop will always be a part of what is 2b!
2b straight out of the BX……and I’m OUT!
ONE