Those Were The Days, Back In Junior High



For An 8th Grader, My Style Was Kinda Fly



And Just To Prove I Was An MC Pro



I Often Sponsored A Classroom Show



And The Hype Part Of My Imagination



Was Making My Homeroom A Hip Hop Station



Minutes Before The Late Bell Would Ring



I Would Greet The Audience And Then I'll Swing



A Lyric Or Two As The Students Barked



Beacuse My Rhymes Had Sparked



Off Somethign Causing The Class To Mingle



To A Rhythm Which Is Now A 12" Single



Letting Off Many Styles Of Hip Hop



Holding The Mic That I Made In Wood Shop



Forget Gold, My Key Chain Was A Cable



Two Math Textbooks Were Turntables



And For A Mixer, Something Much Cooler



A Penny Being Cross Faded On A Ruler



Measuring Dope Beats That Were Flexed



From Hands That Played A Drum Roll On A Desk



From My Home Girl, Her Name, Fly As Emory



Sweet Memory



I Remember Sitting In My Art Class



Drawing Up Lyrics Kinda Fast



The Outcome, A Masterpiece



Live Shows With Hyped Up Rhymes Released



As If Lyrics Were Flowing From The Heavens Above



I'll Grab A Mic And Provoke A Push To A Shove



From Boys And Girls Who Broke Necks To See



The Lyrics G.O.D.




Those Were The Days




Now It's High School, Lunch Room's The Scene



And I'm Ready To Flip The Routing



In The Cafeteria, Period Three



And Here I Come With The JVC



I Go In My Pocket And Pull Out A Mic



Plug It In, Check One-two...alright



Now Who Wanna Show And Prove Their MC Skills?



A Brother Stepped Forward And Tried To Get Ill



But When It Came Time To Live Out His Name



He Kicked Rhymes That All Sounded The Same



But I Did Him In With A Matter Of Time



And He Was Done Wi