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