What the game been missin'.
Blu show these fools how it's done.
Hip hop aint dead, it just got old and tired. I love music and all genres, hip hop being my favorite and I've been disappointed lately. People look at me funny when I tell them that I don't like Plies or OJ the Juice Man. Wtf I look like. I'm sorry but that's not hip hop in anyway to me. I consider them rappers and their genre is rap
not hip hop. I don't like rap. Yes, I feel there's a difference between rap and hip hop. Hip hop artists are lyricists, there's more to what they're saying, more behind the beat and I don't think anyone these days see that or even care to see. Lyrics are what captures my ears and my heart, not the next catchey hook or phrase. Rappers all have the same topics; sex, money, cars, 'the streets'. They put this whole persona on, I feel like it's all an act just to sell. They're selling lies if you ask me. Possibly there is a rap artist out there that's just speaking what he knows, I on the other hand cannot relate.Why does it take someone to talk about a female in such a degrading and repugnant way. Seriously, why do I care to hear about you spreading her legs?? It takes real talent to come up with something better. Talent. HA! What many are missin'. Please go sit down, Blu gone show you how:
I used to have
Peace, serenity, teaching divinity
Break bread, sipping the blood, eating with enemies
Blind, pearl on my mind thinking we fittin' to be
This, that, and the third
Boy did I learn, tables turn
Billy holiday burned down to play when my nerves drowned my folks away
Swerving in the locomotive, far from my hopes and motives
Back to boasting at shows to get a standing O
From all the fans I know on some of that
Sapphire rapid fire soul stuff I used to hit 'em off with
But now I'm some ol' "pay the toll" for the way I played the role
Cautious when I lace a flow, cause, pose? think I'm painting codes
Patience grown thin, home sick and haven't been home since
Fuck a rapper, I'm an actor in a film called:
"Leave me the fuck alone until I find a real job"
Busting chrome grills off at these soft hearted breakbeats bouncing with 808's and gray ink
Blue heart, red skies, true art died in the heart of my mind
Kept trying to fulfill this, blank scribbled realness, even if it kills this
Poet inside
Used to speak sweet with sympathy
Tease to mimic me, sunshine every line you ever sent to me
Heaven sent, heavenly scent that later crippled me, shit
Simple men don't learn, where was your empathy?
Couldn't see the fork in the road
Kept straight forward, straight towards a humble abode we both hate more
Now that I fumbled and folded that open letter said "dead men walking don't dream"
You taped yours, and you told me I could rent it
Thought it was invented for my viewing pleasure
Human error, the apprentice turned teacher, preacher turned God
Couldn't reach ya, just a façade, the main feature
Modified for blogs, podcast the past, hi-definition, she laughed
Pass the message, now I'm guessing that the jokes on me
Cause I'm the only one threatened
The wretched by the windows sketching
Pencil? the mural of the method, don't sweat it, techniques turning, burning incense
Listening to Billy burn my intent, definitive days that turn my nights to fiction
Friction-less, just a pen trynna pimp this stress, 'cause I couldn't keep a lid on my life
Naïve as the dry leaves on the ground, looking past the tree to the blue sky asking:
Why me?
