The New Message

"I get money, money I got"
Aint yall tired of hearin bout money
We aint even see, ak?
Nas said hip hop is dead: correction,
Hip hop's been fed a dreadful dream
Of more CREAM than it's ever seen if it
Could dumb down the masses;
Drive the vehicle of our expression drunk til it crashes...
Burn the house of our creativity until its ashes.
Bastards!
These record execs have planted rashes in the game;
A&R's searching for the same type of lame MC,
Covering the plain truth with thick sashes.
"Cash Rules Everything Around Me, CREAM, get the money; dollar dollar bill yall."
Wu wrote that when they was dead broke,
Aint nun of that shit real yall.
Grandmaster Flash & the furious 5
Kept hope alive while giving the gritty truth and
Feeding us the drive for change.
"Don't push me 'cause im close to the edge,
Im tryin not to lose my head."
The hallways in the 'jects is still pissy.
The ho-lice is still shifty.
The pusher man still tryin to get me to pop corn
Like its jiffy.
"It's like a jungle sometimes, it makes me wonder how I keep from goin under."
Aint nun change, the need for radio friendliness left us wit no free range.
Now we been taught to worship the dopeman
We got duffle bag boys and a rappin ass snowman
One of my favorite rappers named his album after some cocaine... damn.
Is rap dyin slowly?
Everybody wanna be Nino while our brethren OD.
"Hey Ladies!"
Aint yall tired of the misogynistic garbage?
Remember when it was cool to pay
homage to our sistas and tell 'em
"You're all that I need ill be there for you,
If you keep it real wit me, ill keep it real wit choo.
Lovin your whole steez and be in there boo
On top of dat you got the good power you."
Nowadays we hardly do.
And female MC rarely blow unless they rappin
Like a ho...
We already know u got breast and a vagina...
But we get a constant reminder.
Bad enough we got brovas cat callin on some ape man shit.
When was the last time you heard a woman rhyme about a healthy relationship
Or chillin at they girl house sippin on pressed grapes that rip.
But nooooooooo,
These busta ass payola praisin record companies
Rather give they money to tell young broths to
"Super soak that ho!"
And while I got ur attention id like to mention that I love my people,
But will somebody tell Latinos that the rhythm skeleton from "Murder She Wrote" is not a genre of music...
Thank you!
In short, mainstream hip hop aint ours no more,
Its now the new whip our slave owners use to spank you.
We need the game back.

Peace.

by; Just Putt