Wednesday, February 06, 2013

The MC Type & Prof - "My Backpack" (lyrics)



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[The MC Type]
Rap is something you do.
Hip hop is something you are.
Traumatic echo.

Yo, check it out, I'm rapping right now,
How many syllables can I fit into this sentence right now.
And even though it's written I'ma go free style right now.
Free Style:
Rest in peace mainstream,
I'ma RIP you into pieces like Pangaea
Yeah,
Our earthquakes that quake the earth into earthshakes that make you squirm.
Turntables.
The four elements come together like the president,
Named Air Force One, KRS One.
If I impress one rapper I did my job,
Except my job is to live with my mom.
I'm bomb, you are terrorist, without me you don't exist.
You are pissed that I'm so good at this.
My consciousness expands to a million conscientiousnesses.
I've got one mistress, her name is hip hop,
I only love her to piss off my in-laws.
Don't get it wrong, I write these songs,
But I have a secret weapon that I brought along:

This is my backpack, check out its straps.
This is real rap, none of that crap.
This is my backpack, it has my rhyme book.
That's how I wrote this, this is my hook.
This is my backpack, it has CDRs.
When you hear my fast rap you'll be seeing stars.
This is my backpack, check out my backpack.
It is my backpack, it's not yours.

[Prof]
Living through my lyrics so lyrically I'll be whatever I want to be,
Backpack, headphones, Socrates' philosophies.
I'm droppin' these anomalies on top of these monstrosities,
I'm building up monopolies, I'm probably a novelty.
Yo yo.
So much pain in my brain, when the rain came the same,
Can't tame my main frame like a chain gang,
In my brain in the rain.
Dang.
Mathematically I'm eliminated tragically,
Metaphorically I'm considered a minority.
My geometry is unflawlessly unapologeticy,
True school hip hop is where I'm really meant to be.
My pen is a light saber.
My ink bleeds my soul into the paper,
Man it's a lifesaver.
My beats by Dre headphones are glorious.
I won't stop until I'm lyrically victorious.

This is my backpack, check out its straps.
This is real rap, none of that crap.
This is my backpack, it has my rhyme book.
That's how I wrote this, this is my hook.
This is my backpack, it has CDRs.
When you hear my fast rap you'll be seeing stars.
This is my backpack, check out my backpack.
It is my backpack, it's not yours.

[The MC Type]
Welcome to Christmas, my lyrical gift never misses,
It only lifts us up to riches,
Of the mind, 'cause making money's wrong,
I'm about to pass the mic to my man Prof.

[Prof]
I am now currently taking a mic from my man Type.
I'm making sure my rhymes are tight every single night.
Hey fuck the mainstream, I'll never be like that.
I stay true and write my rhymes on an iPad.

[MC Type]
Prof, name drop.
Prof, name drop.
Hip hop, hip hop,
Hip hop, hip hop.
We belong together, like the beach and flip flops.
Hip hop.

[Prof]
When I say Hip, you say Hop.
Hip - Hop
Hip - Hop
When I say Don't, you say Stop.
Don't - Stop
Don't - Stop

No, ah, seriously stop. What, what are you wearing on your, what?

This is my backpack, check out its straps.
This is real rap, none of that crap.
This is my backpack, it has my rhyme book.
That's how I wrote this, this is my hook.
This is my backpack, it has CDRs.
When you hear my fast rap you'll be seeing stars.
This is my backpack, check out my backpack.
It is my backpack, it's not yours.

Wack off rhythms, smash hit.

I think I'm about to kick in a capella right now.

Dude, is this the dumbest thing we've done yet?

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