Mullet

It was the (beatboxing) that got me (beatboxing) It was the (beatboxing), break (beatboxing), deflate Cause I was gassed Head over heels in love with the electric drums and spoken vocals Which was the joke of locals And laughing stock of my rock-and-roll-ass town But the rhythmic acupuncture pierced my skin Pinning the butterflies to my stomach Which would flutter every time I heard the (beatboxing) More than the (beatboxing metal) I was no devil worshiper Higher level interpreter I refuse to lose focus and Recite satanic verses with manic curses Drug induced worst cause I knew they were saying "Kill your mother" cause it paid them well Yet in my flashback I see the foreshadow Ironic twist, my first purchase was a hip-hop record called Raising Hell I should have RUN when I had the chance But DMC's made be wanna break dance Made me wanna spin vinyl Made me wanna graph right Made me want to not act...White And not to perpetuate any stereotype but I was not about the mullet ice hockey haircut You know the mullet Short on top for the fellas Long in back for the ladies, yeah I was not about stonewashed nut-huggers With the French rolls on the bottom So tight that it turned my toes purple Nor was I about the ripped jean jacket with the Megadeath, Metallica, and Slayer patch I had an internal itch for the (beatboxing) and never Could I get with (beeheew) guitar riff, the (beeheew) guitar riff The (beeeeeeehhhhrrr) I had Wild Style Wars I rented Beat Street every week As I Rocked Steady Wearing out the play, rewind, and slow mo buttons on my VCR I did the pause-play, pause-play, pause-play, pause-play- all day Forced my way into comprehension of inner city invention For me was in the expression Which would eventually win me acception (one exception) Those around me couldn't give me affection But I played and paid that video attention until eventually I completely bit the (beat boxing) I found my new religion Born again b-boy Born to destroy decoys and be the real McCoy, yeah boy! I wore the clock so YOU could know the time Chuck D told me to keep a sober mind And even though his sidekick liked the flava of BASE I swear to God, hip-hop was about being drug free I swore to God hip-hop was about the upliftment of humanity And I swore to God hip-hop was what rock was not was what rock Was not, was not pop (pop! pshhhh) Guess I was gassed See I remember when Dr. Dre use to Express himself About hating The Chronic A few years later he's endorsing it while drinking gin and tonic Suburbanites that blast Ma$e learn their mad face from Onyx It was a rat race the first to properly use ebonics Dynamite like JJ, but it was a Fad like Supersonic Hip-hop flipped from being artistic to a pop hit Mainstream took control and we cannot stop it It's a Black art being manipulated by White controllers Just like rock and roll is We took the (beatboxing) We took the (beatboxing)