This mumbling and generic slop I\'ve always hated,
Such a shame that the real wordplay is endangered.
Popping pills and shooting up in the studio,
Did you think this is the way hip-hop would go?
No message and no understanding what you\'re on about,
Are dark agendas behind rap\'s demise? I\'m without doubt.
Underground kings won\'t speak on what\'s going down?
Makes me wonder why they entertain a barely functioning clown?
Pacts and prayers but who follows what thing spiritually?
There\'s more to the so called only edgy imagery, clearly.
How much are the platinum chains and diamond rings worth?
You use ghostwriters and still can\'t deliver a hot verse since birth.
Trying to climb the ladder but stuck in the hamster wheel,
Watching out for someone\'s essence and lyrics to steal.
Morals faded away, now not much of anything to say,
Caught up in dissing and don\'t mind having street beef,
Soft as cotton, opposition will knock out your front teeth.
A lion on the internet but timidly quiet mouse in real life,
Industry plant with a promotion team, you don\'t know strife.
Imagine Wu-Tang Clan if the industry never became a Klan.
Gold chains, fine print; are you making music or manufacturing a dead man?
The studio is a place to express, play, even rage in pain.
ODB feared a plot, we know it wasn’t tramadol and cocaine.
Rap is just poetry with a beat and too much money behind it.
I was age nine when I asked, “Where is the love?” But I’m still struggling to find it.
Biggie weren’t the first fat man to be killed by America’s greed.
Classified Platinum records, hmmm which ones are we allowed to read?
Curtis put names on a record; “Ghetto Qu’ran” named Supreme.
Investigators suspected revenge… who gets to reign supreme?
Nine shots outside his grandmother’s home; his life’s on the line.
They can market a man as bulletproof, but no man’s born with nine.
It seems these artists eat their last supper on Death Row, man-made sinners,
while the business plays at being God, choosing sacrifices and winners.
Bad boys, good investments; tell me what a soul is worth.
Do they own the masters, or do the masters own them till they’re in the Earth?