[Intro: Declaime]
Yeah...
Alright
Get funky now
[Pre-Chorus: Madlib & Declaime]
MC's (C's) – they flowing, spitting
DJ's (J's) – keep spinning, cutting
Graffiti writers (Writers) – keep bombing, tagging
B-boys (B-boys) – keep breaking, breaking
[Verse 1: Declaime]
Let me get down, with no hesitations
That deep dark poet from the Crate Digger station
Constantly I run through chumps
Giving lumps on the double
I smell trouble when we rumble (Rock it, Declaime)
For those that don't release fat rhymes, there's no relief
And I won't let up, when I get up on wack MC's
And as I increase my output to peak
I'm unique with these vocals, makе a speech that would hurt those (Hurt 'em up)
And find a new job, unto thе back of the line
Not new with this shit, for I have waited time
I find – ya'll take this art form for granted
Peace to the real, get your respect as demanded
See me? I just can't stand it (Stand it)
[Chorus: Madlib, Declaime, & Wildchild]
(Yo, who we down with?)
The movement makes your body want to get on down
The movement makes you want to react to this sound
The movement forms only on a Hip-Hop ground
The movement where b-boys and b-girls get found
[Verse 2: Madlib]
Declaime, aiyyo –
Remember back in the days when we first started
Uprocking with my blaster, playing it retarded?
"The Bridge Is Over," or remember when Main Source parted?
'Yo! MTV' darted, Public Enemy was the hardest
What about turntables, graffiti, breakdance, and rapping?
Some niggas don't know the four elements, it's like a fashion
Shows, be on some glitter shit, we on that Crate Digger shit
You tried to get rid of it, you better get use to it
It's like half of ya'll rappers is nitwits
Stuck on tits, clits, misfits, talkin' 'bout hits
And ya'll... ya'll ever heard of the L Brothers?
Or Cold Crush, Percee P, T La Rock,
Michie Mee, Scott La Rock,
Kool Herc, Charlie Chase in the place?
We live it like we in '88
I switch style plates, come great like the ones ya'll niggas write up
You niggas all get tied up
My nigga Declaime light up
When I'm writing, take a flight for the movement
[Chorus: Madlib, Declaime, & Wildchild]
The movement
The movement
The movement
[Verse 3: Wildchild]
Yo cats rock competable, soundin' incredible
Others be ineligible or capable
Of developing cool styles, earn residuals
My physical's forming, there isn't a warning
So, Jack'll come visibly unpredictably with the flow
It's pitiful, I'm acclaimed critically to commence a show
Kick a verse like–how should we say?
It'll literally light up your whole entire vital supply
So invite up, when we ride up your whole MC entire line up
'Cause your art is officially–artificial, as we
Walk down this alter, it's not hard to diss, you can weep
Slice your style up with sword and eat it
Jet Li mode, then come back and watch Jack formulate it
Yo, Madlib – jump on the SP and coordinate it
And I'll invert a verse right before the flute horn had faded
'Cause 95 percent of my fist will identically dismiss cats
'Til they fall on the deep side of the ocean, fill in the abyss
Jack's killing a fist full of MC's
Never slip, using the grip of a pistol pullin' at ease
Another film, another fanatic reframe the pro panic
It's too late, you're a mechanical mathematical mannequin – ask if you heard of a
Brother in a red Acura at an inaccurate lunch time, trying to emasc' an ill murderer
I send this rhyme out to my b-boys and my ladies
Declaime, lets mosh 'em up and backspin it to the 80's
[Pre-Chorus: Madlib & Declaime]
MC's (C's) – they flowing, spitting
DJ's (J's) – keep spinning, cutting
Graffiti writers (Writers) – keep bombing, tagging
B-boys (B-boys) – keep breaking, breaking
[Chorus: Madlib, Declaime, & Wildchild]
The movement makes your body want to get on down
The movement makes you want to react to this sound
The movement forms only on a Hip-Hop ground
The movement where b-boys and b-girls get found
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