Move Ahead

Intro: Real skills, Bronx styles, Cypress Ave meets Cypress Hill Real hip-hop, bounce to this shit motherfuckers, READ EM! You know what's up, SHRAP! Commisioner Gordon rock on Tony Touch y'all rock on Kid Capri yeah rock on DJ Kenny Coffin yo rock on Verse 1: In 199-sess, KRS is in his peak-in You are weak-in and collapse like Mike, collect the beacon You talk more ish than a cellullar You can't last, just call me Enema Cos I give that ass-troid, heaven and mergatroid I'm that six, umm, microphone-holdin humanoid Pyschological like Sigmund Freud But I get annoyed cos these rappers have no brain These hardcore rappers crack me up like cocaine They got no skill or game They sellin that commercial let me say it "Ask for Minoxadil with Rogaine" True skills I will explain The teacher breaks this whole shit down plain Chorus: West Coast beef must dead, no-ho-ho East Coast beef must dead, no-ho-ho Time for us to move ahead, no-ho-ho B-boy hip-hop is dead, no We must move ahead (x8) Verse 2: People always say when they see us, teach us So we move by the inch, teachin only some of it, believe us Hustlas and players and hoes will never leave us They been around since Mary Magdalene and Jesus Run wit it, pimps and players run the government We been raised on a tonne of it that's why we're lovin it Bein a player is cool when you a kid Until you get sent up for a eight year bid Now you use and abuse and serve like hell Til one day you are found face down upon the ground Two shots to the dome, we need to switch quick Dyin over what you players, I think, call a bitch I'm not a player hater cos I hate no one But when you start destroyin hip-hop, you gots ta go, son Government attack one who's brainwashed Government attack two who is, yes, brain rinsed Government attack three is for you and me To constantly dream about the Lex with bulletproof tints It's pointless to think I'm knockin ya If you a pimp, be a pimp, I'll be a philosopher So the.... Chorus Verse 3: Y-yes are the intelligent, we descend on every establishment In the East or West, microphone grabbin it Chess-to-chess, lyrical confrontation is dope For the hip-hop nation, yet our hope, your scope Is broader than who can kill who and who got the biggest crew? That's why black people cannot seem to break thru It's like crabs in a pot when one crab reaches the top Other crabs wish to pull down and blood (BLOODS) I'm not understandin what's all the fuss Hip-hop belongs to all of us The East created it, the West decorated it Learn the lesson, the unified picture is black expression When black expression heights itself It becomes black digression leadin to depression in health Now question these ideas today If hip-hop was destroyed could we blame the CIA Or the FBI, you'd be a motherfuckin lie- -er, li-ar, pants on fire-er Conspiracy theories are contrise or we keep them on the shelf We got no one to blame but ourselves So.... Chorus We must move ahead (x8) All beef is dead!