Interlude 1 (I'm A Rapper)

You know, baggy pants, book bags, baseball caps.
(Ohh, backpacker.) No, a rapper.
You know, 40's and blunts, bitches and gats!
(Ohh, a gangsta.) No, a rapper! I rap.
I like shell toes, break beats, kung-fu flicks.
(Li-Like a beat girl?) Well, that’s not quite it.
I sweat myself, I grab my crotch, I curse a lot!
(Ohh, you’re from Brooklyn!)
No, a rapper but point tooken
I’m ghetto in the suburbs, white boys are my niggas,
They pay for the studio time, I complain, they fuckin me later
I go to jail a lot, I’m hardcore
(A thug?)
It’s bugged, I write poetry out of a deep CD need to be loved
I stand in circles, I roll with crews
I require affirmation, nah’mean? (Word, true!)
I represent! I hold it down in the streets!
(Ohh, you’re gravity!) No! I’m a rapper! I rap lyrics over beats!
(Hmm… you mean an MC?)
YES!