Doors

Make ‘em clap to this

Attempt to motivate the activists

The buzz about town (will) produce volts to power your amp

Reign it in – damp roots will blossom

A few were talkin' ‘bout the sprout when the Two were still Awesome

Sun lit the sky and identified the Scion

'95 burns hot in the hearts of rap purists

“Put in on,” big brother, transform

My generation of b-b-bubblers has gone flat over time

Daily distractions of the 8-track mind

If I stray, punch me out, for real – be on the button

But word to La Rock, swear you aint gon' stop for nothin'

Mecca bound with the 4-pound – promisin' yall the payoff

The black steel rocker throughout the age of chaos

And brothers on my jock for the way I hold it

Take it in, cousin – this right here's the moment

Still “steppin' to the a.m.”

A half pace short of dawn-break – you take trade in's?

Stakes is high – my mistakes ante up with the best

“Stay alive, all thing's will change around” – ahh yeah

You're test of faith will make mountains outta rock piles

The ‘voodoo child' will chop it

Jimi's diggin' cats – Mr. Hancock. ‘Rock It,'

And affluence influenced the hustle, I can't knock it

Believe me if you wanna, but I'll tell you this much

I bet you all your dough they live longer than us, because

Only the good die at age 29

‘My Philosophy' was born in a ‘New York State of Mind'

Confined on the island with no moral support

To make a long story short – it's 8 million others in the city

And you prolly aint got time for this one

You keep checkin' the shine on your wrist, son…



Chorus:



Bum rush the platform, son – doors are closin'

When time's frozen, you don't wanna be late

Departin' sharp for one last run to get you open

I'll forever hold my token, stand post by the gate (X2)



They said ‘never no more,'

But it seems the suckas teamed up to hold court

The 6-man providin' relief for any starter

Count stats by the quarter – we're takin' back the order

I swear upon the text of the revelation of Kings

From Hollis, Queens – learned to walk without strings

Easy on the cut – no mistakes allowed

Cause to me, “MC” means “mentor the child”

Step into the realm and you're bound to get taught

Tell me Grand Verbalizer; what time the lesson start?

Sharpenin' my tip so my mark's made heavy and dark

Indelible upon your skeletal parts

The apprentice to the mad scientist up in the lab

It's the art form – these scars were born under scabs

Evidence of life represented by the ankh

The body returns to dust; the soul to the South Bronx…



Chorus