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It goes one for the B-Boys doing battles for the fans 
And two for writers burning aerosol cans 
And three for the DJ’s two records, scratching, blending 
And four for the emcee whose rhymes are never ending 
It’s bigger than the music and the music is called Rap 
What they calling Hip-Hop, is just a trend called trap 
And the name implies they cook in a kitchen with empty cupboards 
But most these kids ain’t ever seen a life outside the suburbs 
Doesn’t matter where you’re from but the youth are misdirected 
And they talk about a life of which they have no real perspective 
While lyrically it’s clear they’ve spent no time to build their craft up 
By studying the greats and then comparing how they stack up 
They quick to post a track up and hope the get a lot of likes 
It takes more to an emcee than a laptop and mic 
With every copy of a copy there’s diminished resolution 
And Hip-Hop is not a music, it’s a fucking institution 

If you take away the essence of what gives a thing it’s nature 
All that’s left is but a ghost of what was once something far greater 
Like all the money in your pocket ain’t worth nothing but the paper 
Or you eat your favorite meal but ask they take out all the flavor 
Ya’ll really get it lit? Shit, Mike is shutting off the breakers 
Til you kiddos come around and give it up to the creators 
To me ya’ll sound fabricated, rapping simulators 
If Hip-Hop died then I’ve applied rhyme defibrillators 

These kids’ egos are fragile because their story’s suspicious 
And they try to sell a truth they know is completely fictitious 
And now a wave of kids is rummaging through medicine cabinets 
They have no fear that in a year they might be heroin addicts 
And it’s tragic but they heard their favorite rapper when he said 
That popping pills makes you a star but poppin’ pillies makes you dead
Profiteering from another family following a hearse 
Yeah I know it’s been a problem but you ain’t gotta make it worse 
And Yo, I know that every artform will evolve as time unfolds 
And artists will emerge that break outside the standard molds 
Challenge status quos, experiment with flows 
But if you ain’t got a foundation then your structure will erode 
All is due to the juggernauts before who laid the ground work 
Vinyl breakbeats and a mic to make the sound work 
If you’re creating something call it yours and represent 
But we won’t say it’s Hip-Hop unless it’s got those elements 

If you take away the essence of what gives a thing it’s nature 
All that’s left is but a ghost of what was once something far greater 
Like all the money in your pocket ain’t worth nothing but the paper 
Or you eat your favorite meal but ask they take out all the flavor 
Ya’ll really get it lit? Shit, Mike is shutting off the breakers 
Til you kiddos come around and give it up to the creators 
To me ya’ll sound fabricated, rapping simulators 
If Hip-Hop died then I’ve applied rhyme defibrillators 

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