A B-Boy's Alpha

[Verse 1: Vast Aire] My mother said, "You sucked my pussy when you came out Don't ever talk back – I handed you life and I'll snatch it back" I'm just a latchkey kid with a snotty nose High school drop out, space I'm around need Wite-Out And I ain't dealing with no minimum wage I'd rather construct rhymes on a minimum page Cynical ways, cats sin for nickels these days Pulling the chrome out And you Acolyte pulling the Chrome out Hated the sound of grandma's crying the crooked letter You could hear it from the ground or where the sky thunders Make you wonder about early Sunday morning Relatives dressed in black and they all mourning Flows be banging in the paint, throwing elbows My first fight was me against 5 boroughs I lost my first wish, but remembered every detail of my first kiss That's that Bronx Tale bliss The holiest of holies, Hip-Hop, it was '88 Even at the age of 10, phrases levitate Drinking Little Hug quarter waters Dodging stray slugs on the corner, in that exact order While you playing, death is what happens I found the passion in aerosol cans and hands clapping Back spins, microphones, and cats rapping Linoleum and up-rockers, the show shockers Who rip Lee patches off of impostors You ain't the real McCoy, you a wind up toy And it's going to cost ya, and that's my B-Boy Alpha (Someday we’ll find it) [Verse 2: Vordul] Straight out of the depths of Hell Reflect the sec and inhale the buddah wisdom Envision and edit inscriptions of a Megallah spiritualism Paint a picture from the spiritual And seriously spit a lyric That'll rip through a physical ligament Trigger living in these city limits Limited with no money, going through crazy minutes Crazy thinking of back in the days When blazing the lazy writtens Before we was swallowing deuces, popping with gooses And rocking the bubble gooses Troublesome kid, puffin' a loosie Hopping off Huffy, stealing Marvel comics and water Uzis All of us canoeing through sewers with juvenile maneuvers Caught up in nooses from borders with troubleshooters On corners where coppers will hop out of Dunkin' Donuts Popping they gun and shoot us Or more of us aware Thinking Rudy Giuli' really don't give a fuck about a moolie Got me woozy, sipping Kahlúas, losing my noodles Screwed up in the two triple losers Spraying it live, b-boy graffiti alpha Out of rap, a loser, loser, loser (Hah, yeah, loser) (Someday we’ll find it) [Outro] I mean there was something in me then that, uh- you know, made me want to go to Harlem and teach those ghetto kids