[Verse 1] Ay yo, stick me in your tape deck Im a cassette You could record demos on me, crackheads try to pawn me Jakes even use me to record statements Play me back, get caught and catch life in the basement No doubt I could be used for many a purpose Never place me on a magnetic surface I might catch amnesia and forget what I know I recall being played in a fucked up Pinto The deck got hot, ate me up till I popped The owner pressed stop, then ejected Tossed out the window neglected, by the curb I lay Shorty, walking to school, picked me up the next day He threw me in a Sony Walkman and pressed play I snagged up again, he took me out, passed me to his friend His friend fixed me, taped me up, now Im crispy Back together, better than ever Now Im limping in the inside pocket of his leather His moms didnt want him having me, said I promoted profanity She hated, but he loved it Ay yo, he threw me in his dudes tape deck and he dubbed it Gave a copy to his friend, my dub is my twin My contents get under their skin, since Since back in the days of NWA, parents been throwing me away The life of a tape [Hook 2x] Never put me in your box if your shit eats tapes I let my tape rock till my tape popped [Verse 2] Ay yo, my father was an 8track, my son is a DAT You could record demos on me, I told you before Cop me at the bootlegger in front of the liquor store Cause of me bootleggers, rappers was slappin em Sell a million of me and go platinum Ask Funk Flex and Big Kap and em Ay yo, DJs bought the vinyl out of the crate Sit it on the turntable, then watch it rotate 33 RPM, revolutions per minute A flex of the wrist, now the scratch is invented Push the crossfader now the blend is authentic He shouts out the crowd, they respond like guns Gracefully take a bow, competition is won [Hook 2x] Never put me in your box if your shit eats tapes I let my tape rock till my tape popped
tape, ay, bootlegger, popped, deck