by Eric B. and Rakim, Follow the Leader

I was a fiend before I became a teen
I melted microphones instead of cones of ice cream
Music orientated so when hip-hop was originated
Fitted like pieces of puzzles, complicated

’cause I grabbed the mic and try to say, yes y’all
They tried to take it, and say that I’m too small
Cool, ’cause I don’t get upset
I kick a hole in the speaker, pull the plug, then I jet

Back to the lab without a mic to grab
So then I add all the rhymes I had
One after the other one, then I make another one
To dis the opposite then ask if the brother’s done