Lyrics
Check, check, check
We take it back like
Ridin large
In the old red Tracker
Herringbone necklaces on
Yo
Ride large like Professor, yeah we all feel the pressure
Reach the middle ground, want the money and the message
In our music
But, the ones that ask the questions
They get no answers
Give a damn about the essence
So, why stress the sessions
Just say whats your mind yo
So I'mma kick the lines yo
Till all of yall arrested
Cuffin' wit my bars
Doubled up just like the necklace
They wear around they necks
To show they checks is all the deafest
Unheard of, my word of, 9th Wonder told me wreck it
My drive Daytona 5, Ghost, never do they see me
I'm up early, buttering toast
You eating Wheaties
Tryna get my thoughts together from dreams on posturepedies
I had last night
Holding the mic like I was TD(E)D on CD yo my rhymes
Could go for OT, I dont stop for nobody
Its rigamortis the rapper
Pouring out liquor for niggas I out rapped up
Means nothing
They wanna hear stories that can relate
They wanna hear stories about your life, about your day
Anything on my mind, I know here I can relay
So, when I feel stress I come here and fade away
In the drums
Like I did when I was young
In the drums
Just kickin it, bum ba bum
In the drums
Like I did when I was young
In the drums, bum ba bum
Don't over think what you think that they thinking
Am I too lyrical? Is it too simple? Im sinking
Out of the zone, my attitude now fuck what you think
About to go all the way in, I give a damn about your minks
Deferred from the furs and the money
If the shrinks come with the deals that you ink
That niggas sign without a blink
Dont bond with me well, like males in all pink
Strong minded, frail shit, the lyrical Darlene
It was never all rosie, yo these niggas all goldies
They slave to the oldies, the presidents, just thinks
This real life rap, money, power, theres nothing else
A lot of sex, drug usage and rapping about wealth
Ain't not balance in this system no more
We ain't well
Ain't a rapper on the radio wit stories to tell
Hip Hop never died, yo
The radio failed
Now the powers with the people
Wonder if they can tell
Just some change for your thoughts
Like those in the well
Yo, I kick for you all and take it back for a spell
In the drums
Like I did when I was young
In the drums
Just kickin it, bum ba bum
In the drums
Like I did when I was young
In the drums, bum ba bum
Columbine, we scary youth
They don't know how to react
When the drums start to swing
And it feel like 96
We the truth
Rocking Juice apparel
Boxes and rings
Gold fingers, gold thinkers
Young Pharaohs and queens
Brooklyn and Queens
Classic New York sound
Back on the scene
Shouts to Jamla, Pro Era
Boom bap in our veins
Got me Sparking
Taking me farther down memory lane
Cleaning, freestyling, Im only age 12 in my frame
Catching the rhythm
Was the mission
Now we living our dreams
Conditions not extreme
No need for TV screens
It seems we back to slinging
Dope product is back
On the block
I never forgot
Where the feeling was at
In the drums
Like I did when I was young
In the drums
Bum ba bum
In the drums
Like I did when I was young
In the drums, bum ba bum
9th Wonder make the drums boom bat
Soul Counts make the drums boom bat
Pete Rock make the drums boom bat
Premier make the drums boom bat
Plot Kim make the drums boom bat
Finese make the drums boom bat
Q-Tip make the drums boom bat
9th Rob make the drums boom bat
J Dilla make the drums boom bat
RZA my nigga
PUBLISHERS
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
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