Running In My Blood

For as long as I can remember I've always had hip hop running in my blood Before I forget, let me get my voice out my neck Let me paint a silhouette with the thought I project Let me show you dreams, seem they all in your head And take you back before Spotify or the internet I was just a kid, attracted to music So anything that I could make a beat with, I'd use it Tins, buckets and cans, banging the kick drum Like, look mum, I thought I was the man Wooden spoons or even my hands, come to think of it Mum used to go for exactly the same things Why? When I was caught being a bastard She'd say, you backchat to me, I'll make a beat on your ass kid But she couldn't drum it in me So incidentally, you know I got the drummer in me So as long as the beat is banging, it's rumbling something in me So fundamentally, I got hip hop running in me Yeah, and that was a young age And those were the stones paved for me to be this great For Peter or Paul's sake, I gotta make music Drop the bomb on it But first, I gotta fuse it Hip hop, hip hop running Hip hop, hip hop running In my blood Hip hop running, running in my Hip hop, hip hop running Hey yo, Saturday morning mean we gotta do shopping and groceries Mum's like, get in the car And I'm like, no, please I think I'm sick or I've got a disease Because every time I sneeze, my nose bleeds She's like, OK, but don't answer the door And if the phone rings, answer it, but remember who called She gets in the car and backs out the driveway And I'm just checking the coast clear And I'm safe Mum's gone a minute, not even a second later And I'm heading over straight for the record player I'm a scratch the wax off the back of this this Johnny Cash vinyl And there ain't a damn thing that I know about doing it properly And there also ain't a damn thing that you could do to stop me Because I'm the DJ, and he's the rapper Mesmerised my eyes by the turntable platter, what Hip hop, hip hop running Hip hop, hip hop running In my blood Hip hop running, running in my blood In my blood Is that a rap song Yeah, where you at son? I'm in my room, mum, getting my rap on I listen to radio stations, not hating The top eight at eight had me standby waiting With hip hop, I could escape, like, see you later And if you were like me, you were one of the first playlist curators I put a blank cassette tape in the deck Press play record on it, and the world I'd forget At this point, I hadn't even considered a pen I really just enjoyed listening then On the road, I could put my headphones on my head And disappear in the music and explore it instead If your AA batteries were losing, they're charge Music would slow down, the beat would be half This was my life, and I was living it right Just a hip hop fan with a vision insight Hip hop, hip hop running In my blood, blood Hip hop, hip hop running In my blood, blood In my blood, blood