Lyrics of 'Hop' by Os Quatro

Fake, fake record (records)

Uh, uh, uh, (one - two, one - two)
Uh, uh, uh, (all my dogs)

It' s bigger than hip-hop, hip-hop, hip-hop, hip
It' s bigger than hip-hop, hip-hop, hip-hop, hip - hop

Uh

One thing 'bout music when it hit you feel no pain
White folks say it controls your brain, I know better than that
That' s game and we ready for that
Two soldiers head of the pack, matter of fact who got the gat?
And where my army at, rather attack and not react
Back the beats get don' t reflect on how many records get sold
On sex, drugs and rock and roll, whether your projects put on hold
In the real world these just people with ideas
They just like me and you when the smoke and camera disappear
Again the real world it' s bigger than all these fake ass records
When poor folks got the millions and my womans disrespected
If you check, one - two, my word of advise to you is just relax
Just do what you got to do if that don' t work then kick the facts
If you a fighter, rider, 'bout'er flame ignator, crowd exciter
Or you wanna just get high, then just say it
But then if you a liar, liar, pants on fire, wolfcrier, agent with a wire
I' m gonna know it when I play it

Uh

Who shot biggy smalls? If we don' t get them they gonna get us all
I' m down for running up them crackers in they city hall
We ride for y' all, all my dogs stay real
Nigga, don' t think these record deals gonna feed your seeds and pay your
Bills, because they not
Mcs get a little bit of love and think they hot
Talking 'bout how much money they got, all y' all records sound the same
I'm sick of that fake thug, R&B, rap scenario all day on the radio
Same scenes in the video, monotonous material - y'all don' t hear me
Though
These record labels slang our tapes like dope
You can be next in line and sighned and still be writin rhymes and broke
You could rather have a lexus, some justice, a dream or some substance
A beamer or necklace or freedom?
Still a nigga like me don' t playa' hate, I just stay awake
This real hip-hop, and it don' t stop until we get the po-po off the block
They call it

Dp' s got that crazy shit, we keep it crunk up
John blaze' d and shit (what)

Fake, fake, fake records