Some felt good from being bad, feelings pass and change
But they never leave, they here to stay
Holiday, holiday, happy birthday, teenage love, the first cut run deep
Soul on flesh, this is the Brooklyn streets

Year of the Ox, seven and three, M.D., the history
Every soul got one of these, it's where you been and where you be
And without understanding you cannot proceed
Complete, it start then it end then it just go round again, again

Again and again, brand new
Again and again, so fresh
Again and again, newness

I was born in the decade of decadence
Where they worship what they have, Ford was president
Do the math, the war was ended
When the North Vietnamese stormed the city of Saigon

We was like, "Bye", we was gone, let bygones be bygones
I'm gone, spread love, it's the Brooklyn way
Where they hug you with the firearm side arm

Like new school clothes, Black Star official
Smash when we do a show, it's facts, no mystery
I'm down with the crew like Mussolini in Italy
I rock with The Roots like the Giving Tree

Powerful, bigotry at work, me and my people got history
These rappers dumb it down considerably
We get it poppin' like a hit chorus
The flow is historic, they can't get rid of us
Ubiquitous and we lay the law like Leviticus
Ten years ago we made history so they missing us

And don't call it a come back in particular
Even if it blend into ephemera
Or fade into peripheral transition of the minister's original
We're broadcast clear without diminishing

Black Star stove top burning soul temperatures, administers
Alkalines, aminos and minerals, it's sensuous
Served over Dilla time signatures
It's miracle material, remember it's right now foreverness