Concrete Schoolyard

"We were sitting out on the step, you know"

Now, I'm a say this one time, boy, and that's my word

We rockin' shots and not fire through the Hindenburg

The contribution is clear, you add water to bone

And get the Jurassic 5 on the microphone

Now, if you like the tone and how the harmony's done

And the sucker MCs die before they've begun

Well I'd like to know if you've got the notion

'Cause we're number one

I'm not tryin' to say my style is better than yours

I'm just on some other shit

I'm all about the beats and the lyrics

So when you hear it you can feel it

The vibe is energized by the presence of my spirit

No interference, we persevere, the purpose is clear:

We're here to leave your ear hurtin' severe

You're lurkin' in fear 'cause we take it back like Robin Loxley

Rockin' from countrysides to spots where hard rocks be

I often wonder if these MCs even know how it feels

To dedicate they whole life to this mic of steel

It's not about the bills, that's not keepin' it real

A lot of tight rappers out here ain't got no deal

We appeal to the brothers with flow finesse

'Cause it's the 100 watt blood shot, game of death

'Cause we're protected by the covenants of words and beats

Rewind and feel the heat, recline and take a seat

So, ah, let's take it back to the concrete streets

Original beats with real live MCs

Playground tactics, no 'rabbit in a hat' tricks

Just that classic rap shit from Jurassic

Let's take it back to the concrete streets

Original beats with real live MCs

Playground tactics, no 'rabbit in a hat' tricks

Just that classic rap shit from Jurassic

Now, I walk from Tanzania, earthquake Transylvania

And on the way I kicked a hole through the Wall of China

Just to get the right blend

'Cause it's schizophrenic of the pathway to livin'

I fell into the deep end

You shouldn't have told me the pyramids can hold me

So now a contest is what you owe me

Pull out your beats, pull out your cuts

Give us a mic, what up, and we gon' tear shit up

I'm on some old and forgotten, sun up to sun down

Like picking cotton, 'The Nutty Professor', science droppin'

Rockin' Robin's Hood from New York to Compton

Me and my three sons, Jabari, Shakir, and Kahsum

So, ah, let's take it back to the concrete streets

Original beats with real live MCs

Playground tactics, no 'rabbit in a hat' tricks

Just that classic rap shit from Jurassic

Let's take it back to the concrete streets

Original beats with real live MCs

Playground tactics, no 'rabbit in a hat' tricks

Just that classic rap shit from Jurassic

Hey, I'm 2na-Fish from U-N-I-T-Y

Do or die, anti-Illumaniti, why?

Do the liquid from my vocals

Make the ghetto start swimmin'

Forever winnin', I'm in it like Meadowlark Lemon

I get goosebumps when the baseline thumps

A sucka MC freestyle, he had mine for lunch

Marc 7even, get you open like an attache

Briefcase, in this case, the victor is no way

Ah, ah, the tool spinners cookin' the full dinner

Killin' the first born of lyrical Yul Brynner's

When is it the Academy rattlin' your anatomy?

Gotta be J5, so kill all of your fake flattery

That'll be the day when labels pay our way

2na, what you say when MCs come to play?

Man fi dead 'cause we take it back like Spinal Tap

Preparin' your intellect before your final nap

So ah, let's take it back to the concrete streets

Original beats with real live MCs

Playground tactics, no 'rabbit in a hat' tricks

Just that classic rap shit from Jurassic

Let's take it back to the concrete streets

Original beats with real live MCs

Playground tactics, no 'rabbit in a hat' tricks

Just got beef, huh, watch how I'll settle it

I'll fuck around and arrest your whole development

I'm eloquent, when it comes to digital display

I'm ready for the world while you earl off the Tanqueray

Tactics, my shit's Jurassic 5

Fingers of Death while you exhale and inhale

With a deep breath with my chop suey style

'Cause I'm a lyrical chef, I gets mines to the death

'Cause I be cookin', from here to Brooklyn

Your shit's annoying like fat-ass Bookman

On Good Times

When I rhyme I hit the designated area

I hope you got your shots 'cause this is lyrical malaria

Spreading, beheading fools with the punishment

I live in America but fuck this government

A hundred and fifty times over silk with lead

While y'all drink the Similac, my rhymes are breast-fed

No artificial nipples, I flip the real skills

I thought I told you once I kick the lyrical windmills

And backspin Benedict, strictly for my benefit

I step on toes when I flow don't get offended

Come and get with it

Comprehended when I kick it

I represent the real

From the beginning to the end of it