Honest Expression

基本介紹

• 歌曲：Honest Expression
• 語言：英語
• 發行日期：2000-10-31
• 歌手：BINARY STAR
• 所屬專輯：Masters Of The Universe

Artist：binary star

Songs Title：honest expression

Ultimately, martial art means honestly expressing yourself. It is easy for

Me to put on a show, and be cocky so I can show you some really fancy

Movement. But to express oneself honestly, not lying to oneself, and to

Express myself honestly enough that my friend is very hard to do.

Like sand through the hourglass

So are the days of our lives

And for that lie, only we thrive

Awakenings, as we make the dead come alive

Rise and walk my son, come into the light

Inside the dark, we illuminate mics

Give knowledge to mediocre, the will to Neanderthal

Filter to the smog, digital to analog

We steady advancing, rhyme enhancing

Simple minds can't keep up with this

I'm a put it on the table

I ain't a thug nigga and playa

I ain't playful, I'm jus' a non-sinner

A man without label, standin' on my own two

Tryin' to stay stable

Speakin' what I know, to only what I label

I ain't the kinda guy who carry out for dough

The material cat who walk around for show

I'm jus' everyday, merry-way Joe-in-the-go

While other's go wit' the flow

I ain't never been the one to follow trend

I do my own bit, can't keep up with the Joneses

I'm on my own shit, I don't care what you drink

What you stress, how you dress, or where you got the link

I ain't impressed

These lames walk around like mice in the maze

Tryin' to get up on cheese, it's just a rap race

One escapes time seems to make

Man worships things over the supreme thing

A stop for lots, should I join the hypocrites

Or side with the suckers, by choice

It makes no difference, that you're a product of environment

Is just coincidence, the world's a violent place baby

There ain't no more innocence, or civil men of penitence

Just ignorance, casting the right from wrong

They mimic shit they see on TV or hear in a song

What they tell you they on, a sucker act up every minute

The righteous live on, but them niggas is invented

Yo, I ain't hardcore, I don't pack a nine millimeter

Most a y'all gangsta rappers ain't hardcore neither

Whoever get mad, then I'm talkin' 'bout you

Claim you fear no man, but never walk wit' our crew

Where I'm from, your reputation don't mean jack

So what, you pack gats and you sell fiends crack

You ain't big time, my man

You ain't no different from the next cat in my neighborhood who did time

Rhyme after rhymes it's the same topic

What make you think you hardcore 'cause you was raised in the projects

Broke-ass finally got a hundred in your pocket

Now you on the mic, spittin' money's no object

What you say is bullcrap, if you wasn't wit' your crew

Or wasn't drunk off the brew, would you still pull gats?

You need to stop fronting or you headed for self-destruction

Yeah, today's topic, is self-destruction

I ain't talkin' 'bout the KRS-One discussion

I'm talkin' 'bout the one-too-many ignorant suckers

Lyin' on the mic to my sisters and brothers

Every time you listen to the radio

All you hear is nonsense, they never play the bomb shit

Everything that glitters ain't gold

And every gold record don't glitter, that's for damn sure

Y'all need to be cool as shit

Tryin' to teach you from the heart

Y'all rambling on, and ain't sayin' nothing

I'm busy in the mind

I'm a go invent, I think I'll elevate my mental

Yo, see cats got confused somewhere man （confused）

About what hip-hop was, you know what I'm sayin'

Or what hip-hop is, （it's business yo） you know it

It's all business

（its big money, know what I'm sayin' that's all these cats about）

You know that's bullshit, right? That's nigga talk, nigga talk

But if you want to make money yo, I got it broke down though

I got it broke down, （break it down yo）

You got hip-hop, then you got hip-pop

Hip-pop? （hip-pop）

Alright, （but a lot of cats want pop）

Yes, （know what I'm sayin'）

It used to be real hip

You got the top forty version of hip-hop

I still got something else, something else that I wanna get off my chest

What? （know what I'm sayin'?）

How many cats you know

Speak the ill-legit rhyme after rhyme diligent

Eighty-five percent represent ignorant

Either you innocent or guilty

Some of my favorite emcees fell of

It damn near killed me

Lookin' at the kids that was true hip-pop

Nowadays them cats don't even do hip-hop

Rap got 'em brainwashed, with cats that don't last

And five minutes of fame, that's when it's a shame

Seein' real emcees tryin' to imitate rappers

If you ask me, they goin' out ass-backwards

Trading in respect to push a fat Lex'

Puff rhymin' on the remix, what's next?

It hurts so bad, I wanna smack 'em

My favorite crew members break up

Turn around and join whack ones

This is dedicated to you hip-hop hypocrites

Droppin' whack songs, like you don't give a shit

I ain't got nothin' against nobody trying to make a decent living

It ain't the money that's the issue

Only if that's the reason why these cats ain't makin' decent music

That's when I got beef wit' you

And I'm a bring it to you like never

Go ahead, call me player-hater if it make you feel better

Try to jump my crew if you cats feel boggy

You need to wake up, and smell the damn coffee

Know what I'm sayin', these whack emcees...