================================================================================ TRACK 081 - THE LAST REAL MC ================================================================================ [INTRO] They said the real MC died when the money got big So I dug up his coffin and I lit a cigarette And I told him, homie, rest - I got it from here The last real MC - and I'm standing right here [HOOK 1] Last real MC, no ghost, no co-write Every bar in my book is a bar I had to fight I don't need a feature, I don't need a crutch Last real MC - and the rhyme is the touch Last real MC, pen and a beat Everything I ever said I could stand on the street And repeat in a cypher with a gun to my head Last real MC - and I'm better off dead than fed [VERSE 1] I studied the craft where the craft meant a thing Where the verse was a handshake and the beat was a ring And you couldn't buy a bar and you couldn't rent a line You had to build the whole thing with the sweat of your mind So I built it - brick by brick, syllable by syllable And I made it so sharp that the rhythm got invisible And I never needed help and I never needed hype And I never needed nothing but a mic and a type Of hunger that the fed ones forgot when they blew So when they say the real is dead, I say: who? Not me. Not you. The last real MC is a dying-ass breed And I'm the last of the line and I plant a new seed [BRIDGE 1] Real - that's a word they threw out Real - that's the thing they sold out Real - and the beat don't lie And the man on the mic is the last of a tribe [HOOK 2] Last real MC, no ghost, no co-write Every bar in my book is a bar I had to fight I don't need a feature, I don't need a crutch Last real MC - and the rhyme is the touch [VERSE 2] I SWING now - let the pocket lean lazy and warm Every bar a little late like it's dodging a storm And I catch it right back on the snare with a snap And the whole damn Inland is caught in the trap Of a flow that don't falter and a pen that don't fake And a man who would rather be broke than be flake So keep your chains and your deals and your fifteen percent I'll take the rent and the beat and the blood that I spent And I'll die with the catalog more than it was And I'll leave it to whoever can carry the buzz 'Cause the real ain't a genre and the real ain't a phase The real is a debt that you pay till you're dead in the grave [BRIDGE 2] Real - that's a word they threw out Real - that's the thing they sold out The label dropped the artist that they couldn't clone And the clone got the check and the artist got the throne [HOOK 3] Last real MC, no ghost, no co-write Every bar in my book is a bar I had to fight I don't need a feature, I don't need a crutch Last real MC - and the rhyme is the touch Last real MC, pen and a beat Everything I ever said I could stand on the street And repeat in a cypher with a gun to my head Last real MC - and I'm better off dead than fed [VERSE 3] (no beat, just voice, four bars, then the beat slams back) I don't ghostwrite and I don't get ghostwrote I don't sell a verse and I don't sell a quote I don't bite, I don't borrow, I don't beg, I don't fold I'm the last real MC and the last one is cold. (beat slams) And the last one is lonely and the last one is proud And the last one is standing when they all left the crowd. Last real. Still real. Still here. [OUTRO] Dead breed. Live king. That's the whole resume. Turn it up. - END TRACK 81 -
