Hip-Hop to the Death

Hip-Hop to death and it don’t stop
The real culture will never, ever turn pop
Hip-Hop to the death and it don’t quit
We need to question, «why all the bullshit?»
Verse One
They asking me, do I still love the culture?
Of course I do, just contempt for these vultures
You know, the ones who really run the show
Radio programmers and these CEOs
I got no business taking aim at these artists
They say I should diss by name cause they garbage
I’m not gonna blame an MC for their content
When they were raised up instilled with this non-sense
And they told «this is how you get rich»
When you coming from the gutter, you might dig it
What we need is to question the whole game
Who got the power to put thoughts up in your brain
The Clear Channels, the Hot 97s
The airwaves where the bullshit’s presented
It goes deeper than having some «free will»
That escapes the very second you sign a deal
Verse Two
It’s clear as day that hip-hop's been colonized
By the same forces who got my color eyes
They got oppressed people talking like oppressors
Self hatred on the capitalist agenda
They got no problem with pushing the violence
As long as it’s young black men who dying
But if that violence takes another form
And it cuts to the source of the problem
Then it’s clear that it won’t get a pass
In fact, it’ll get ruthlessly attacked
Mainstream rap, now white supremacy
Just a neo-colonialist policy
Now they saying «look at them savage blacks»
But they gave them the weapons to attack
Like they did long before the scene
It’s all political, who’s really pulling the strings?