Lyrics:

[Part I]
This is the greatest sob story ever told for the old and young
Hold them tongues of epics our souls have sung
As cold as sun, harbour the rare gold in slums
Unfolding guns whenever we've rolled on drums
From Wildstyle, Beatstreet and Krushgroove
Where writers would cut moods on walls with something smooth
B-Boys would bust moves, bumrush fools
Fifty deep in the club, hollering Lashmoove
The Scoops & Scraps, Chuck D would shoot the facts
Griff would lose the track, sling bad news on wax!
Loop the sax dreams to boost fhe plaques
Lgnore ruthless slacks, tell me now who's the mack?
I used tu be real abstract ...
What happened to Mike Bivins or Ill All Skratch? lt's real &

[Chorus]
Have you forgotten where you came from
Have you forgotten you've lived and got your
Name from why dont you say out loud: Fuck Square One!
We know the routine ain't nothing' changed son ...
Have you forgotten where you came from
Have you forgotten that we almost had the game won
Why don't you say out loud: Fuck Square One!
We know the routine ain't nothing' changed son ...
Genius