A Dear John letter to Hip Hop
Dear Hip Hop,
I’m sorry I’m not saying this to your face
It’s just that lately you’ve been scaring me
I wish I could say it’s not you but me,
But,
It’s definitely you
You’ve changed
Gone deranged
Rearranged
In a way that is making me feel increasingly
Strange
I mean 50 cents is good for pocket change
But what are you really trying to say hip-hop?
Stop
Don’t talk
Let me reflect on the poetry
You once were
Holding a hairbrush
Microphone
Rhyming with Rakim
And KRS-one
Really hip-hop
How could you cheat on me with Lil’ Jon and Cash
Money
Funny
There isn’t that much money where we come from
Just machines tapping out drums
But some of us were to broke for that
So we made the music with our mouths
Now it’s just about the bizz
That dollar,
Dollar
Bill y’all
Holler for a thrill y’all
You need to slow down with Brand Nubian
Or just chill
With EPMD
Stop copying fallen legends
Re-releasing their remix
So Diddy
Can keep from being a relic
I mean bling-bling is the sound of locks
On an apartment door
Can’t we talk about that hip-hop?
Stop
We can’t talk
Communication is gone
I’m severing this relationship
Because now it’s just time to move on.
