A child was born in the East one 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 hardcore 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 of one through five  With raps no mortal MC could survive  But he showed no mercy, he rapped blood thirsty  Battling from Friday on through 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