All of our teachers were poor and righteous
Spinning funk into the message just to get by,
And us children were taught not to sweat the technique
Using rhythm to achieve U.N.I.T.Y.
All through Immortal lessons of cunning linguistics
they showed us the world was ours, the limit became the sky,
Freed from miseducation, we wanted some changes
And it became Common to go search for The Light
But then we reached a crossroads that broke our harmony
We were fighting internal battles, a darkness that's hard to hide.
Cause It ain't easy to abandon a C.R.E.A.M. mentality
Remaining positive's impossible if you ain't gotta tribe
Refugees of the war bore black eyes, carrying black stars, labeled the Outkasts, the world grew cold.
Those legends have come and gone. They left generations of lost ones,
forsaken by what we do, no ties to our roots
"R U STILL DOWN?" Our hearts call out
In need of a revision, cause we can't recall the message. Ears deaf to the flava of music de la soul.
So now, " the Choice is Yours. Continue on this unrighteous path, or return to the village slum. relearn your Definitions"
For only there, might you find, the rebirth
Of our Grandmasters