| Song | Honest Expression |
| Artist | Binary Star |
| Album | Masters of the Universe |
| 作曲 : One Be Lo, Silla | |
| (Voice sample:) | |
| "Ultimately, martial art means honestly expressing yourself. It is easy for | |
| me to put on a show, and be cocky so I can show you some really fancy | |
| movement. But to express oneself honestly, not lying to oneself, and to | |
| express myself honestly enough; that my friend is very hard to do." | |
| (Verse 1) | |
| Like sand through the hourglass | |
| So are the days of our lives | |
| And for that live moment we thrive | |
| Awakenings, as we make the dead come alive | |
| Rise and walk my son, come into the light | |
| Inside the dark, we illuminate mics | |
| Give knowledge to mediocre, the will to Neanderthal | |
| Filter to the smog, digital to analog | |
| We steady advancing, rhyme enhancing | |
| Simple minds can't keep up with this | |
| (Verse 2) | |
| I'm a put it on the table | |
| I ain't a thug nigga and playa | |
| I ain't playful, I'm just Senim Silla | |
| A man without label, standin' on my own two | |
| just tryin' to stay stable | |
| Speaking on what I know, do only what Im able | |
| I ain't the kinda guy who carry on for dough | |
| The material cat who walk around for show | |
| I'm just ya everyday, merry-way Joe-on-the-go | |
| While others go wit' the flow | |
| I ain't never been the one to follow trend, I do my own bit | |
| Can't keep up with the Joneses, I'm on my own shit | |
| I don't care what you drink, what you stress, how you dress | |
| Or where you got the link, I ain't impressed | |
| These lames run around like mice in the maze | |
| Tryin' to get up on cheese, its just a rat race | |
| Wanna change time's schemes to make man worships things | |
| Over the supreme being or stop fill up | |
| Shall I join the hypocrites or side with the suckers, by choice | |
| It makes no difference that you're a product of environment | |
| Is just coincidence, the world's a violent place baby | |
| There ain't no more innocence or civil men of penitence | |
| Just ignorance, cats don't know right from wrong | |
| They mimic shit they see on TV or hear in a song | |
| What they tell you they on, a sucka act up every minute | |
| The righteous live on, but the niggas are infinite | |
| (Verse 3) | |
| Yo, I ain't hardcore, I don't pack a nine millimeter | |
| Most of y'all gangsta rappers ain't hardcore neither | |
| Whoever get mad, then I'm talkin' 'bout you | |
| Claim you fear no man, but never walk with out a crew | |
| Where I'm from your reputation don't mean jack | |
| So what you pack gats and you sell fiends crack? | |
| You ain't big time, my man | |
| You ain't no different from the next cat in my neighborhood who did time | |
| Rhyme after rhymes it's the same topic | |
| What make you think you hardcore 'cause you was raised in the projects | |
| Broke-ass finally got a hundred in your pocket | |
| Now you on the mic, spittin' money's no object | |
| What you say is bullcrap, if you wasn't wit' your crew | |
| Or wasn't drunk off the brew, would you still pull gats? | |
| You need to stop fronting | |
| Or you headed for self-destruction | |
| Yeah, today's topic, is self-destruction | |
| I ain't talkin' 'bout the KRS-One discussion | |
| I'm talkin' 'bout the one-too-many ignorant suckers | |
| Lyin' on the mic to my sisters and brothers | |
| Every time you listen to the radio all you hear is nonsense | |
| They never play the bomb shit | |
| Everything that glitters ain't gold | |
| And every gold record don't glitter, that's for damn sure | |
| (Scratching Voices:) | |
| "Y'all need to be cool as shit" | |
| "Time to kick shit from the heart" | |
| "Y'all rambling on, and ain't sayin' nothing" | |
| "I'm busy in the mind" | |
| "I'm a go invent, I think I'll elevate my mental" | |
| (Interlude) | |
| Yo, see cats got confused somewhere man (confused) | |
| About what hip-hop was, you know what I'm sayin' | |
| Or what hip-hop is, (it's business yo) you know it | |
| It's all business | |
| (its big money, know what I'm sayin' that's all these cats about) | |
| You know that's bullshit, right? That's nigga talk, nigga talk | |
| But if you want to make money yo, I got it broke down though | |
| I got it broke down, (break it down yo) | |
| You got hip-hop, then you got hip-pop | |
| Hip-pop? (hip-pop) | |
| Alright, (but a lot of cats want pop) | |
| Yes, (know what I'm sayin') | |
| It used to be real hip | |
| You got the top forty version of hip-hop | |
| I still got something else, something else that I wanna get off my chest | |
| What? (know what I'm sayin'?) | |
| (Verse 4) | |
| How many cats you know | |
| Speak the ill-legit rhyme after rhyme diligent | |
| Eighty-five percent represent ignorant | |
| Either you innocent or guilty | |
| Some of my favorite emcees fell off | |
| It damn near killed me | |
| Lookin' at the kids that was true hip-pop | |
| Nowadays them cats don't even do hip-hop | |
| Rap got 'em brainwashed, with cats that don't last | |
| And five minutes of fame, that's when it's a shame | |
| Seein' real emcees tryin' to imitate rappers | |
| If you ask me, they goin' out ass-backwards | |
| Trading in respect to push a fat Lex' | |
| Puff rhymin' on the remix, what's next? | |
| It hurts so bad, I wanna smack 'em | |
| My favorite crew members break up | |
| Turn around and join whack ones | |
| This is dedicated to you hip-hop hypocrites | |
| Droppin' whack songs, like you don't give a shit | |
| I ain't got nothin' against nobody trying to make a decent living | |
| It ain't the money that's the issue | |
| Only if that's the reason why these cats ain't makin' decent music | |
| That's when I got beef wit' you | |
| And I'm a bring it to you like never | |
| Go ahead, call me player-hater if it make you feel better | |
| Try to jump my crew if you cats feel froggy | |
| You need to wake up, and smell the damn coffee | |
| Know what I'm sayin', these whack emcees... |
| zuò qǔ : One Be Lo, Silla | |
| Voice sample: | |
| " Ultimately, martial art means honestly expressing yourself. It is easy for | |
| me to put on a show, and be cocky so I can show you some really fancy | |
| movement. But to express oneself honestly, not lying to oneself, and to | |
| express myself honestly enough that my friend is very hard to do." | |
| Verse 1 | |
| Like sand through the hourglass | |
| So are the days of our lives | |
| And for that live moment we thrive | |
| Awakenings, as we make the dead come alive | |
| Rise and walk my son, come into the light | |
| Inside the dark, we illuminate mics | |
| Give knowledge to mediocre, the will to Neanderthal | |
| Filter to the smog, digital to analog | |
| We steady advancing, rhyme enhancing | |
| Simple minds can' t keep up with this | |
| Verse 2 | |
| I' m a put it on the table | |
| I ain' t a thug nigga and playa | |
| I ain' t playful, I' m just Senim Silla | |
| A man without label, standin' on my own two | |
| just tryin' to stay stable | |
| Speaking on what I know, do only what Im able | |
| I ain' t the kinda guy who carry on for dough | |
| The material cat who walk around for show | |
| I' m just ya everyday, merryway Joeonthego | |
| While others go wit' the flow | |
| I ain' t never been the one to follow trend, I do my own bit | |
| Can' t keep up with the Joneses, I' m on my own shit | |
| I don' t care what you drink, what you stress, how you dress | |
| Or where you got the link, I ain' t impressed | |
| These lames run around like mice in the maze | |
| Tryin' to get up on cheese, its just a rat race | |
| Wanna change time' s schemes to make man worships things | |
| Over the supreme being or stop fill up | |
| Shall I join the hypocrites or side with the suckers, by choice | |
| It makes no difference that you' re a product of environment | |
| Is just coincidence, the world' s a violent place baby | |
| There ain' t no more innocence or civil men of penitence | |
| Just ignorance, cats don' t know right from wrong | |
| They mimic shit they see on TV or hear in a song | |
| What they tell you they on, a sucka act up every minute | |
| The righteous live on, but the niggas are infinite | |
| Verse 3 | |
| Yo, I ain' t hardcore, I don' t pack a nine millimeter | |
| Most of y' all gangsta rappers ain' t hardcore neither | |
| Whoever get mad, then I' m talkin' ' bout you | |
| Claim you fear no man, but never walk with out a crew | |
| Where I' m from your reputation don' t mean jack | |
| So what you pack gats and you sell fiends crack? | |
| You ain' t big time, my man | |
| You ain' t no different from the next cat in my neighborhood who did time | |
| Rhyme after rhymes it' s the same topic | |
| What make you think you hardcore ' cause you was raised in the projects | |
| Brokeass finally got a hundred in your pocket | |
| Now you on the mic, spittin' money' s no object | |
| What you say is bullcrap, if you wasn' t wit' your crew | |
| Or wasn' t drunk off the brew, would you still pull gats? | |
| You need to stop fronting | |
| Or you headed for selfdestruction | |
| Yeah, today' s topic, is selfdestruction | |
| I ain' t talkin' ' bout the KRSOne discussion | |
| I' m talkin' ' bout the onetoomany ignorant suckers | |
| Lyin' on the mic to my sisters and brothers | |
| Every time you listen to the radio all you hear is nonsense | |
| They never play the bomb shit | |
| Everything that glitters ain' t gold | |
| And every gold record don' t glitter, that' s for damn sure | |
| Scratching Voices: | |
| " Y' all need to be cool as shit" | |
| " Time to kick shit from the heart" | |
| " Y' all rambling on, and ain' t sayin' nothing" | |
| " I' m busy in the mind" | |
| " I' m a go invent, I think I' ll elevate my mental" | |
| Interlude | |
| Yo, see cats got confused somewhere man confused | |
| About what hiphop was, you know what I' m sayin' | |
| Or what hiphop is, it' s business yo you know it | |
| It' s all business | |
| its big money, know what I' m sayin' that' s all these cats about | |
| You know that' s bullshit, right? That' s nigga talk, nigga talk | |
| But if you want to make money yo, I got it broke down though | |
| I got it broke down, break it down yo | |
| You got hiphop, then you got hippop | |
| Hippop? hippop | |
| Alright, but a lot of cats want pop | |
| Yes, know what I' m sayin' | |
| It used to be real hip | |
| You got the top forty version of hiphop | |
| I still got something else, something else that I wanna get off my chest | |
| What? know what I' m sayin'? | |
| Verse 4 | |
| How many cats you know | |
| Speak the illlegit rhyme after rhyme diligent | |
| Eightyfive percent represent ignorant | |
| Either you innocent or guilty | |
| Some of my favorite emcees fell off | |
| It damn near killed me | |
| Lookin' at the kids that was true hippop | |
| Nowadays them cats don' t even do hiphop | |
| Rap got ' em brainwashed, with cats that don' t last | |
| And five minutes of fame, that' s when it' s a shame | |
| Seein' real emcees tryin' to imitate rappers | |
| If you ask me, they goin' out assbackwards | |
| Trading in respect to push a fat Lex' | |
| Puff rhymin' on the remix, what' s next? | |
| It hurts so bad, I wanna smack ' em | |
| My favorite crew members break up | |
| Turn around and join whack ones | |
| This is dedicated to you hiphop hypocrites | |
| Droppin' whack songs, like you don' t give a shit | |
| I ain' t got nothin' against nobody trying to make a decent living | |
| It ain' t the money that' s the issue | |
| Only if that' s the reason why these cats ain' t makin' decent music | |
| That' s when I got beef wit' you | |
| And I' m a bring it to you like never | |
| Go ahead, call me playerhater if it make you feel better | |
| Try to jump my crew if you cats feel froggy | |
| You need to wake up, and smell the damn coffee | |
| Know what I' m sayin', these whack emcees... |