A child was born in the east on day

Moved to the west coast after his parents passed away

Never understood his fascination with rhymes or beats

In poetry he was considered elite

Became a young gangster in the streets of L.A.

Lost connections with his true roots far away

But no matter the job or crime

He never lost his hard core obsession to rhyme

New York's hip hop movement broke loose

Dj's cut records raps had the juice

Since busting rhymes was his natural thing

He was crowned the west coast MC king

But after his inauguration there was a rush

Of wack rappers with one intention to crush

This master rapper and take his throne

A simple job,he had no crew,he stood all alone

Assassins came in groups MC could survive

But he showed no mercy,he rapped blood thirsty

Battlin' from friday on to thursday

Never losin' a 'bout,never ending in doubt

Every confrontation K.O. knock out

On his never ending journey to the T.O.P.

The L.A. player M.C. ICE-T