Beat This: A History of Hip Hop

Where did Hip Hop start, how has it evolved and who or what made Hip Hop music popular. In this unique documentary film about the history of Hip Hop is presented like never bevore.

Beat this! A Hip Hop history

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  1. Wow!! Hip Hop in its essence and purity before it was hijacked! Lovin’ it!

  2. If you ever wanted to see Kool Herc fly a kite, here is your chance….

  3. If you ever wanted to see Kool Herc fly a kite, here is your chance….

  4. Good Stuff, great video, loved the whole thing from beginning to end. Hip Hop is still alive and breathing.

  5. I tried readin ya rhyme, but the shit’s hurtin my brain
    It’s like a granny ex-stripper with no pole, workin a cane
    That shit foul, you not helpin only hurtin the game
    I spit up a shit storm, my forecast? certain to rain
    He wear skirts to work so johns think they jerkin a dame
    Then he cry in the shower at dawn, curtain of shame
    The next night he back on the streets, workin the same
    He aint dexter, but we gon see blood spurtin from vein
    Inspiration cant muscle in, dat fool da scrawniest pup
    My bars benchpressin whips, ya runt spits scrawny as fuck
    You choke when heat burnin ya breath wit a vengeance
    Neva call me your honor but I pack death wit a sentence
    Killin neph wit a penchant for hangin niggas like pendants
    Confess ya worst sin, you cant take steps with my “pennants”
    Cremated ya remnants, and then I flushed the ashes
    When I “dictate” the outcome call me a phuckin facist
    Ya cypher too juxed up to fix, so it stay broke
    You cant tip “the scales”, cuz ya lines never “way dope”
    Yeah you betta take note, in the future just stay ghost
    But don’t blame ME, when ya bars is the scapegoats
    Them shits makin no cents, you aint getting paid properly
    You chris tucker in 5th element, im beanie in state property
    This shit is armed robbery, you get stabbed wit da shank
    Ya bars is dead soldiers, when shells crash into ranks
    This nigga a bottom feeder, you not on top at all
    You be terro-fied when you burnin up like the taj mahal
    Worse than a walmart massacre, witcha long ass lines
    You got trampled, tryna push back at the wrong ass time

    • Trash….. from an east harlem gay building gutter-alley, blackened from an infant who shat from a 4th floor window on you 7 months ago; then got pee-peed on by a stray mutt who ate the infants shit then vomited his babyshit meal over your quote/unquote rhyme.

      “Nobody buying what you writing for customers” so you type-out on documentary heaven for attention.

    • Kid hopin to climb fast, but i make the ho slower
      You a broken escalator, ya moves only go lower
      Bitch hopes i show mercy, i aint rockin no chivalry
      So ya bars arrive broken, when i drop a delivery
      Why is inspiration sayin dat im king of the spot?
      Cuz gems clock his jaw when da kid ring out a shot
      We discussed hangin already now i “swing on ya knot”
      You emit a bitch sound, like when you sing out for cock
      You spit pure faggotry, like you keep takin erections
      You made a rash move, my illness breaks ya complexion
      At least you learnin from me, class be stayin in session
      Shortened ya lines, punches still aint makin connections
      You aint got a damn clue, only ya back got a hunch
      Stringing random words in lines? nigga that’s not a punch
      Knock you da fuck out, you cant move, too stunned to
      I son dudes, who cant take when i kick it like kung fu
      I could hack you wit axes, wont hurt like my puns do
      You cant hold it together, one twos get you unglued
      Ya thoughts mad shook, so you cant get em steady
      This is assault and “battery” and nigga aint ever ready
      Nigga i piss in tornados, but you cant spit to “the win”
      Cuz shots will blowback with mad clips to the chin
      Im still gon be hungry cuz this victim is thin
      He aint makin no points, his shit cant stick wit a pin
      He wont split wit his skin, his scalp gettin peeled back
      Uppercuts break his braces, and that’s when his steel clap
      Its too late to fight black, nigga verse gettin longer
      The blade atcha throat, you shoulda tried gettin stronger
      Now ya breath bubblin when im slicin thru jugular
      Niggas aint buyin what you be writin for customers