Me and my girls were just sittin` around chillin` or maybe we were drivin`...I don`t remember but we were listening to the radio and we were talking about the state of black music today or maybe I should say the near non-existent state of black music today and we were also discussing the responsibility of music artists or shall I say the lack of responsibility...anyway I put this tape in, and we were listening to this track and it made me wonder...
You think you can rhyme over this nigga You think you can sing over this playa What...you think you can flow over this hustler
Oh yeah...I forgot to tell you the rules
By rhyme I don`t mean nursery Flow don`t mean get your smoke on sing means...well...nigga just sing the song
No Crissy, no thongs no baby boos or baby daddys no tricks, no whips, no weight pushin` and absolutely no platinum or ice no guns, no lies about your ghetto rep and please...the term playa hater... well I hate to tell you, but... it`s played...out
So now what you gonna do? Well...let me show you an example of what you could do
U-love`s about to kick this Don`t resist this I`ll take 8 bars and flip that shit Don`t get it twisted Now watch me while I rock this Naw, not the Casbah
I been watchin` you and I got you dead center in the scope of my word rifle you triflin` your mediocrity is stiflin` it`s frightening the way you mislead as you succeed
it`s a crime that in your rhyme you can`t be both consistent, as well as, diverse in one line you fight adversity the next find you perverse and shitty with your verse she reduced to ass and titty and we be watchin` the videos...like...ho
The million dollar glitz breed is doing a Big Willie blitzkrieg on the ass and ears on the ass and ears on the ass and ears... of...America
Yeah that`s what I`m talkin` about
So now what you gonna do wit` your rhyme, wit` your flow?
Well how about talkin` about the injustices the numbers the blunders of black males in jail Or why not speak truth about our misguided youth their daily dying from thugging and drug selling that leaves them yelling from behind bars far...from the glamour you pimp leaving scars with that dope cut You might as well be saying... Fuck the masses long as my ass is gettin` paid
Your mishandling of the mic...and music`s power...is played it`s time for change so what you think...you up for the challenge?
You think you can rhyme over this nigga You think you can sing over this playa What...you think you can flow over this hustler
I demand reparations from all irresponsible fake mogul crap musicmakers and movefakers your bad examples could kill my children`s future but we`re here to supply the sutures needed to close the bleeding hole...in the soul of black music
Don`t misuse it or abuse it...use it to send positive not negative messages bless the kids with dope, but, heartfelt lyrics they need to hear it
You can still be hard and keep regard for your sisters, and shorties and human life See formidable minds pay the price for your microphone mistakes
So it`s either change...or be changed Break the chains Don`t be slaves