It's the b-boy, its the MC, they cant read the grafitti It's the b-boy, it's the MJ, its the VJ they cant read the grafitti on the walls Throw away my tools, scrape with my hands make as much noise as I can banging on sand I used to play in a band but those people are gone Now the turntable got a needle in it's arm I'm in a van flying without parachutes, wifey didn't plan to have marriage disputes Everytime I stand at the door to say goodbye, its like shes watching her man go to die. I packed in a rush but it was too fast for us, handed me an ultimatum as i grabbed all my stuff Put a pillow in my briefcase I come with no rebates a gaurantee of return when i leave state I make mix tapes, but they're cd-r's Diggin in crates, do you see these scars? They're from big breaks that i stripped from a song, now the turntable got a needle in its arm Flame on like burnin', i'm burnin', i'm burnin', i'm burnin' but wait... I fill up the milk crates, collect the LP's Eric B laughin' at me c-c-check out my melody DJ Polo doin' pawn, terminator X on an ostrich farm Jam master J is gone and that's a shame They say its better to burn out quick than faddddeee I toured the states with a guy named CR, he had nothin but a tube of toothpaste and guitar He was a soul brother, a baby mama back at home brother A good reminder what it is to rock and roll brother. Mashed potatoes every meal and if it ain't served outa greasy spoon he don't deal Real as it gets with a puff that don't quit put him at a piano and he smokes it A blues man, to old to go back to school man, still grinding it out but he already payed his dues man I could see it in his face when he said Sage brother I gotta get out of this place Embarassed, he knocked me off balance truth of the matter is you can't live off raw talent Perhaps you could at one point but those days seem gone Now the turntable got a needle in its arm.