I was born with the mic in my hand
Then I took it from Medina to the SI land
I pulled up on the block, got off the truck
It was the first of pit stops
The era of the spinning top, the birth of hip hop
That was something I had identified with
So I made it my point to exploit this fly gift
Then myself and RZA made trips to the BX
A mass of ferocious MCs, a town of T-Rex
Giants in every ways, rap flows for every day
We knew we would get a reward with a price to pay
The basic training was beyond entertaining
Just the cadence of the verbal expression, self-explaining
Wore my boots out from constant walks across the borough
Tore the troops out the frame when they challenged the most
Thorough from well concealed firing positions we let off the most
Dangerous with that sling, that's just the truth
Shattered the coast, they say I rhyme like the bank to stop
Cause MCs be more shook than the dice just drop
Especially if I'm rolling, then the point is definitely proven
Cause with the gizzo holing, that keep a n***a moving
I walk broadway from Quincy to Myrtle, back to Quincy
Cut careers, whatever the expense be
They heard the legend, run to the Revin
With headaches and blackouts, worse than 7-7
And when my job is done, then it's time to give those that's coming up some run
So you can see where they from
They says the product is good, we gonna sling it from the slums
Up the hill to the hood, till it's understood
We still search through the crates for songs that just breaks
At times we play legendary battles on tapes
Unlikely confrontation, but it clashes swords
Energy that was stored
We still search through the crates for songs that just breaks
Like the rain that just poured on cats and dogs
Water that flooded the stands
The violence that nature had triggered the violence of man
That was bloodshed from what's said
Audible threats, publicized regrets
One of the live for dead
A handful recovered from the dramatic plunge
While the rest kept babbling and speaking in tongues
Since the competition already slayed them in the scrimmage
He continued to tarnish that already faded image
In the sport when they come short, majors don't need them
Then they broke, lose their homes, they don't need them
And the world assumes livelihood and freedom
The rhyme could be a blunt object to make you choke
Like too many totes that'll be taught to grow
This witty, unpredictable, talent, all natural gain
But non-additive slain, that's all actual fact
The high roller knocked a chip off your shoulder
Striked like the perfect bowler
But catastrophic damage from what was hard to manage
Punishment swift and sudden, unparalleled advantage
Brought to a level where you're frozen, can't speak
Trapped in the frigid temperatures of that peak
And when my job is done
Then it's time to give those that's coming up some run
So you can see where they from
It's just the product is good
We gonna sling it from the slums up the hill to the hood
Till it's understood
We gonna sling it from the slums up the hill to the hood