Artist: Mos Def
Song: Children's Story

Once upon a time not long ago
When people wore Adidas and lived life slow
When laws were stern and justice stood
And people was behaving like Hip Hop was good
There lived a little boy who was mislead
By a little shaitan and this is what he said,
"Me and you kid we're gonna make some cash
Jacking old beats and making the dash.."
He jacked the beats, money came with ease
But son he couldn't stop it's like he had a disease
Jacked another and another
Michael Jackson, Stevie Wonder
Mixed some r&b over his track for deep cover.
The kid got wild started acting erratic
He said "Yo that presidential, I've got to have it!"
With liquor in his belly, son, he made up a track
But little did he know that his joints was whack.
The son new A&R said "Great new hit G,
Whenever you need a hook, yo come get me."
The kid got amped then he starts to figure
"I'm a get paid like all of these other niggas"
So he, in the studio working round the clock
For pop radio, jacked the beat to Planet Rock
Out in the street where he met this sister
Who couldn't sing for jack but [the mix with the sister]
Hooked up the track and in excitation
He decided he'd head for the radio station
But, he was running and he made a left
Was geesing at top speed and ran into Mos Def
I slowed the young man down and I started building
Said "Why you selling lies to our wives and children?"
He ran upstiars up to the top floor
opened up the door there and guess who he saw
Jane the chickenhead radio host
who be gabbing bout beef between east and west coast
He said "this ones a bullet, you've got to give it run"
The chicken said "Thanks" and spanked his number one
He went outside was getting props all over
Then he dipped into his ride, a four point rover
Raced up the block doing eighty three
Some cats on Hennesey saw him at a r-e-d
He winked his eye like his star status mattered
They rat-atat-tatted to make his blood splatter
"You rockin crazy ice all you do is bring static
Rolling out in Brooklyn late night is problematic"
His eyes were bloody red, he hung on every word they said
They told the kid "back down, that wooley shit is dead"
Deep in his heart he knew he was wrong
But he grabbed the .45 and decided to play strong
What shaitan sounded had half astounded
and before long the young man got surrounded
[Those] grabbed their guns, so goes the glory
and this is the way I got to end this story
He was out chasing cream and the american dream
Trying to pretend the ends justify the means
This ain't funny so don't you dare laugh
Cause this will come to pass when you sell your ass
Life is more than what your hand can grasp
Good Night!

Knock 'em out the box Mos
Knock 'em out Mos...