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General Principles (Instrumental)Castle, Qc2If black takes on c4, then white could play e4 [?] I must put in time to get mine, many hours to earn power Like the ashy hand pizzeria owner that rolled flour I can't be a broke nigga, bitter and sour Sellin' CDs on the corner of Sunset and Gower A small fry nigga in a baked potato world Sizzling in some beef full of grease like jheri curls, uh-uh Shout out to DJs who kept it real Shipped a few hundred thou' but some never broke the seal, fuck them Stick to college radios, mix shows Stormin' university with freestyles, sick flows Might give a lecture about your rap texture MC, B-Boy, DJ / Director The name was a bell that rang through the hall Popular as the tag on the bathroom stall, check it This language is so captivating When we lose a rap nigga the news is devastating Whether to the prison or grave You know this rap shit is built from the strength of those that hunger and crave My clan got rhymes for days, to be skilled it pays Most of them can't escape the solar rays [?] Name a crew that can stop the force that I strike with Let alone try to hold the pen that I write with You can even chop off my fingers I type with Those I hold a mic with, thinking I might quit They didn't know that only makes me more determined Ich lebe für hip hop, you can ask the Germans Some say I never got this full recognition So I drop another, they shocked and still listen Plus I ran into a well-known musician He said this sample shit got too many cooks in the kitchen Now he's back to flippin' love borns and cypher zigs To support his kids, much even hyper wiz A bad amigo will stroke your ego You see the flash on the dash when he blast your Buick-Regal The same brother you was throwin' your key to Brought the seven niggas in the buildin' to see you You know these goddamn streets 's so gritty With sour milk from titties that'll spoil the city The hood cornerbacks, strong attack is a blitz But we don't lie down for shit, not even direct hits From graffiti in New York on the walls and trains DJs in California to the shores of Maine B-Boys on the floor who be doin' the thang To MCs behind ropes who had titles to claim My team's about shootouts, the fans shout with loud mouths The clock run out, the ref throw the sign, it's overtime The rim-leanin', visitin' teams schemin' Championship ring fiendin', they must be dreamin' These rap players and slayers got a lotta endorsements Make 'em hire law enforcement Plus I just turned down tracks, can't remember the Producer with the beats is wack, sound similar It gotta be exciting, striking, lightning Bring the best out, to dawn through Harlem Writing, light stroke from my pen might choke The tape lent, got a little air, then half the spins MCs be stuck with fear and fascination The nature and the scale of events shake the station I stick up the track armed only with the pen Terrorize it vocally with the force of wind From graffiti in New York on the walls and trains DJs in California to the shores of Maine B-Boys on the floor who be doin' the thang To MCs behind ropes who had titles to claim This is hip-hop Castle, Qc2 If black takes on c4, then white can play e4) [?] C5, Qa5, e5, Nd5, Bxc4, Nc3, and then castle |