Sphere of Hip Hop, Pt. 2

Yo, yo...yo it's the sphere of hip-hop part 2. soulheir the manCHILD and dj dust for you and you and you and you and you....yo, and you, too Yo it's this and it's that It's hype and it's flat It's white and it's black It's abandoned and it's packed It's backpackers, it's wack rappers Beat jackers, chip stackers But thank God it's microphone masters It's after, it's before It's rich and it's poor It's local open-mic nights, it's international tours It's four tracks, it's demos, it's six-fours, it's limos It's drug-free, it's indo It's wives and it's bimbos It's what I love and what I loathe It's battling, doing shows It's turning on radios and hearing about cars and clothes It's the rise, it's the fall The boo's the yes-yall's It's all in together, it's now and it's forever It's day and it's night It's wrong and it's right It's full blown promotions and it's "Don't Believe the Hype" It's five mics, the limelight It's eternal, it's finite It's obscure genius and record deals when you can't rhyme right Yo, I chase it and it follows me It's popular, it's a mockery It's "My Adidas", my advice, my radio, "My Philosophy" It's permanent, it's moving It's showing, improving It's in everything we're saying, it's in everything we're doing It's hell-bent, heaven-sent, it's what you represent It's "F the Police" and it's "Eric B. for President" Yo, it's evident, it's hidden It's your freedom, it's your prison It's the sphere of hip-hop, and it's the place where I live in (yo) (gimme a chance man, I know I can rock it) (sounds like hip-hop) Yo, it's off and it's on It's pros and it's cons It's dusk and it's dawn It's word up, it's word is born It's word life It's blunt but it still cuts like a knife It's primetime, it's outta sight It's "You Gotta Fight For Your Right" It's all right and it's outstanding It's sitting and it's standing It's "Come Clean", explicit content, wal-mart banning It's fans sing the lyrics It's loud, but most can't hear it It's in demand, it's on clearance, it's the cameo appearance It's "The Breaks", it's The Show It's Doug E. Fresh, it's Kurtis Blow It's your words, it's your cadence, it's your style, it's your flow It's the beat, it's the kick, it's the snare, it's the street It's the way that I speak, walk, sleep, pray, and eat It's concrete schoolyards, hard-rocks, it's hard-knocks It's Freaky Tah, it's Big L, it's Biggie Smalls, it's 2Pac Yo, it's acappella scratches It's old and new-school classes It's 3rd Bass, "The Cactus" It's age-old and it's matchless It's peace and it's anger It's your friend, it's a stranger It's the B-boys, graff painters It's the 36 Chambers It's the DJ, turntablist, the maestro, the producer But don't forget it's the 1980's pop singer looper It's true and it's false It's play and it's pause It's perfect, but it's flawed It's hot and it's raw It's Hold it Down, and stay fly It's what, where, when, and why Yo, it's hip-hop, and I gotta rep it till I die (gimme a chance man, I know I can rock it) (sounds like hip-hop) (well, I have this bad habit) ... (sounds like hip-hop)