Political Hip Hop Is Dead

You don’t need talent, in order to make money,
Instead, all you need to do is shed clothes,
Rap about ‘bitches’ and ‘hoes’ in every lyric,

Impossible to compare, it is best to slaughter,
An injured animal, otherwise you are savage,
Take Nicki and Future’s recent production,
Stanzas of garbage material, line after line,

I’ma be your bitch for life (Nicki)
Fuck them hoes, fuck them hoes (Future)
Percocets and molly make you touch your toe (Future)
Snapchat that pussy, don’t you take too long (Future)
Trampoline, titties, girl, they bouncin’, yeah (Future)
Bust it open wide and let that ocean flow (Future)

Unless you are a radical feminist, who owns BITCH magazine,
Most wouldn’t appreciate being called a BITCH,
Besides for writing sexist words in repetition,
Don’t you have any writing skills,

Maybe, it is just me but percocets and molly,
Could be taken as a reference of serving liquor,
To underage women, maybe you are the Bill Cosby of the rap game,
If all you can do is equate trampolines with life preservers,
You need a new hobby, along with an early retirement plan,

You don’t need talent, in order to make money,
Instead, all you need to do is shed clothes,
Bring up ‘bitches’ and ‘hoes’ in every lyric,

Hip Hop is dead,
For those who state Kendrick Lamar is political,
Doesn’t matter how many performances Beyonce gives,
Or how many times Rihanna collaborates with Kendrick,

It doesn’t mean he understands Malcolm’s philosophy,
Not once have I heard a song which describes,
Before and after analysis of X completing his pilgrimage,
All I’ve seen, Rihanna and Kendrick promoting twerk teams,

Political hip-hop, I get it,
It doesn’t sell, compared to fucking, drinking, and twerking,
Real talent, inspires movements,
It also sounds better than Uncle Sam court jesters,
Pretending to rap,

You don’t need talent, in order to make money,
Instead, all you need to do is shed clothes,
Bring up ‘bitches’ and ‘hoes’ in every lyric,

If Marley or anybody else was alive today,
If the Revolution was Televised,
They would be disappointed,

I remember when a we used to sit,
In a government yard in Trenchtown,
Observing the hypocrites,

Remembered for Anaconda,
It is depressing,
We went from,

So you think you’ve found the solution,
But it’s just another illusion!
We’ve got to face the day;
We the street people talkin’,
Yeah, we the people strugglin’.

To a man claiming to be a DJ,
Carrying Khalid bin Walid’s name,
How are we going to emancipate ourselves,
Lincoln didn’t do it, he tricked us,

You don’t need talent, in order to make money,
Instead, all you need to do is shed clothes,
Bring up ‘bitches’ and ‘hoes’ in every lyric,

Knowledge sang through nature’s instrumentals,
Not auto-tone,
Holding the key of uniting Africa,

Unite for the benefit of your people!
Unite for it’s later than you think!
Unite for the benefit of my children!
Unite for it’s later than you think!

None but ourselves can free our minds.
Have no fear for atomic energy,
‘Cause none of them can stop the time.
How long shall they kill our prophets,
While we stand aside and look? Ooh!
Some say it’s just a part of it:
We’ve got to fulfill the book.

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