How We Gonna Do Dis?
How we gonna do dis? We do dis like Brutus
'Cuz to me, a dope sound's more necessary than food is
Yo, they call me the Breakbeat Bandit
And this ain't a spontaneous gambit; I planned it
'Cuz they tryna kill Hip-Hop, and the scars be visible
With the influx of suckas who are hardly lyrical
But worry not, 'cuz I'm the maker of funky neck-breakers
Here to barrage and sabotage the next faker
Punks beware, 'cuz I hate the wannabes
You makin' a mockery; fakin' and tryna be
Somethin' that you're not, and will never be
So cut the crap and stop tryna pretend to me
A lot of these punks love to exaggerate
But I don't really care; they're all natural fakes
You should know a real G don't need to boast
And those who say they got it always need it the most
I don't care about the standard sixteen bars
Nor about the jets or fancy pristine cars
Nah; I'm only meditatin' like a Buddhist
To figure out how we gonna do dis
Hip-Hop's been stepped on 'til it's unrecognizable
And if you got a message, than the market ain't reliable
But I'm so fed up with that, so I readjust
Release a flood of beats and rhymes 'til the speaker busts
Suckas surround me and try to confound me
But they take damage, and all my enemies vanish
Because even though Hip-Hop has taken a detour
All of my notes is explosive like a C4
They tell me to stop with the fuckin' eulogies
Let it go 'cuz Hip-Hop isn't what it used to be
Word; it took an unbelievable turn
I lit a spark, and like gasoline, it'll burn
I'm a passionate advocate for the MC tradition
And I believe in Hip-Hop more than a religion
This was a diabolical move
But MC Zappa'll throw some Bit-Hop in the groove
'Cuz I'm a drum break junkie, lookin' for the next fix
Step up, and see what record the flex rips
As long as I live, I'll still be a student
Yo, how we gonna do dis?
How we gonna do dis? We do it wit' a passion
We keep 'em laughin', never passin'; fuck fashion
If you shuck and jive, just to get record sales
Can't keep it up forever; have to jet and bail
They will get bored with you; make no war over you
Your so-called fans ain't gon' want no more of you
And besides that, it just ain't respectable
I can smell sellouts, 'cuz they plain detectable
Good ol' music; we might never get it back
Yo, but never the less, I still kick it black
Like Deep Cover, on a mission; won't stop
Can't quit now, 'cuz I'm spittin' to the top
Lyrics flow through my head like the rushin' Nile River
And this is why I am, you see, a crushin' rhyme killer
Even if I gotta fight to the bitter end
I'm not sellin' out, givin' up, or givin' in
Slayin' the beats and retainin' the heat
'Cuz it's all a game, and I'm playin' for keeps
So if you wonder how I feel or what my mood is
Stick around and see how we gonna do dis
'Cuz to me, a dope sound's more necessary than food is
Yo, they call me the Breakbeat Bandit
And this ain't a spontaneous gambit; I planned it
'Cuz they tryna kill Hip-Hop, and the scars be visible
With the influx of suckas who are hardly lyrical
But worry not, 'cuz I'm the maker of funky neck-breakers
Here to barrage and sabotage the next faker
Punks beware, 'cuz I hate the wannabes
You makin' a mockery; fakin' and tryna be
Somethin' that you're not, and will never be
So cut the crap and stop tryna pretend to me
A lot of these punks love to exaggerate
But I don't really care; they're all natural fakes
You should know a real G don't need to boast
And those who say they got it always need it the most
I don't care about the standard sixteen bars
Nor about the jets or fancy pristine cars
Nah; I'm only meditatin' like a Buddhist
To figure out how we gonna do dis
Hip-Hop's been stepped on 'til it's unrecognizable
And if you got a message, than the market ain't reliable
But I'm so fed up with that, so I readjust
Release a flood of beats and rhymes 'til the speaker busts
Suckas surround me and try to confound me
But they take damage, and all my enemies vanish
Because even though Hip-Hop has taken a detour
All of my notes is explosive like a C4
They tell me to stop with the fuckin' eulogies
Let it go 'cuz Hip-Hop isn't what it used to be
Word; it took an unbelievable turn
I lit a spark, and like gasoline, it'll burn
I'm a passionate advocate for the MC tradition
And I believe in Hip-Hop more than a religion
This was a diabolical move
But MC Zappa'll throw some Bit-Hop in the groove
'Cuz I'm a drum break junkie, lookin' for the next fix
Step up, and see what record the flex rips
As long as I live, I'll still be a student
Yo, how we gonna do dis?
How we gonna do dis? We do it wit' a passion
We keep 'em laughin', never passin'; fuck fashion
If you shuck and jive, just to get record sales
Can't keep it up forever; have to jet and bail
They will get bored with you; make no war over you
Your so-called fans ain't gon' want no more of you
And besides that, it just ain't respectable
I can smell sellouts, 'cuz they plain detectable
Good ol' music; we might never get it back
Yo, but never the less, I still kick it black
Like Deep Cover, on a mission; won't stop
Can't quit now, 'cuz I'm spittin' to the top
Lyrics flow through my head like the rushin' Nile River
And this is why I am, you see, a crushin' rhyme killer
Even if I gotta fight to the bitter end
I'm not sellin' out, givin' up, or givin' in
Slayin' the beats and retainin' the heat
'Cuz it's all a game, and I'm playin' for keeps
So if you wonder how I feel or what my mood is
Stick around and see how we gonna do dis
Credits
Writer(s): Elyjah Mckoy
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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