I freestyle in cyphers, everyone spits written verses
Kids could think I'm wack when they don't know I don't rehearse shit
Just feel the need to burst with, kill the first with
Raw lyrics shit, it sounds better if it ain't perfect
Give me a fat bag of weed and some beats
And you won't see the BVA for weeks, capiche
We feel the niche for that real music that actually speaks
Call it underground but it's sprouting and growing leaves
I'm a fan from the start but don't think that I'll suck up
Egos are getting swollen, they're bound to trip the fuck up
If they get too big for their boots they're outta luck, bruv
All you have left is the yes men and groupie sluts
So I use the word love but I don't mean it lightly
I love this more than any girl that had me cornered nicely
Find me talking to myself every day and nightly
Take this to the next level from a stoner's pipe dream
We don't need all the glamour and gliss
Cause all you need is a beat and somebody that spits
Or a bunch of kids standing 'round chatting some shit
Cause that's the MUS ah, that was fucking sick
We don't need all the glamour and gliss
Cause all you need is a beat and somebody that spits
Or a bunch of kids standing 'round chatting some shit
Cause that's the MUS ah, that was fucking sick
I buy vinyl even though I ain't a DJ
Original presses off of Amazon and e bay
I sit there for weeks with the same tune on replay
Music speaks volumes and I hear what the beats say
Cause whether I'm raging or cold chilling, burning, sage in
My room, there's a tune that's perfect for the situation
Endless debating on who came with the best creation
But it's irrelevant, I represent for one nation
From the days of 36 I was loving this
Fuck the hits, man, I want it straight from the rubbish tip
Beats dirty like a grubby bitch when you're fucking it
Zone out to the track, forget about the other shit
Because I heard it as a kid but didn't understand
Came to appreciate it fully as a younger man
Know where I stand, I'm feeling locked on to melodies
The energies befriending me, I'm rowdy but I'm sending peace
We don't need all the glamour and gliss
Cause all you need is a beat and somebody that spits
Or a bunch of kids standing 'round chatting some shit
Cause that's the MUS ah, that was fucking sick
We don't need all the glamour and gliss
Cause all you need is a beat and somebody that spits
Or a bunch of kids standing 'round chatting some shit
Cause that's the MUS ah, that was fucking sick