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MyThoughts Villager

| Joined: | Wednesday February 4th, 2004 |
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| Posts: | 1391 |
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Posted: Wednesday April 11th, 2007 23:54 |
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I used to be the voice for my people that would give them the news
Not this money hungry industry mix with rhythm and blues
I’ve given my dues; now as an art I am meaningless
I opened eyes to being silenced, why’s nobody seeing this
Believing this came from poverty, I was an African poet’s lottery
That’s why I’m in the place I am instead of where I ought to be
The thought of me, brings joy, dancing and celebration
Used to be god with the flow, one glance they sell to Satan
I used to be down low, an African man’s secret
Now the whole world sees it and now I’m spitting weak sh*t
Born out the US, I’ve seen the world, travelled over seas and oceans
So understand fully when I say I’m poetry in motion
Now on the UK streets the aspiration’s to scatter me
So I’m living that line imitation is flattery
But choosing the worst of me, making me an ASBO
Now with all the killings they say I’m creating a fiasco
I am hip hop; the one that helped you rise out the gutter
But taking MTV to the streets, now the prize is each other
Numerous Africans dead and you blame me, hip hop
And who your clique shot was in my name, this sh*t stops.
Gunning for number one spot, stacking their rhymes
See gunning for number one spot talking Mack 10’s and Nines,
And like a soldier when a war dwelling my life is at risk
I went from story telling to check the ice on my wrist
The likes of this sh*t has got me turning and tossing
You burn me when flossing and it’s going to earn me a coffin
Got to set the record straight I’m not faking, no lies
I’m fed up of being associated with the taking of lives
Patience deprived, creating these guys saying look at these cars
They have no respect for me even though I took them this far
I’m now a crook with a scar, not one who helped set up the table?
Pioneers of the game, created an art form that helped to get us a label
And yet it enabled a “slave� to acquire things of his passion
And such a painful display too, letting my name flipping be fashion
Getting the cash in, they soak up all the applause
Endorsing to those and modelling coats they can not afford
I was once revolutionary now impostors weaken the vision
Yet I’m the reason these deadbeats aren’t in the streets or in prison
Dreams that I’ve given, past voices, through speech of the living
Now I’m the bad example that we teaching to children
They say I’m a misogynist treating women like hoes
Female flows make less dough and they exposing, less clothes
But best flows aren’t even blowing up headlines
No lyrics, women spit “how well I give head� lines
Suited for bed time, they should visit some ghost writers
Not their managers telling them to wear their clothes tighter
They allege I laugh at the portrayal of our African women
But if people don’t demand respect then it doesn’t have to be given
Repetitive use of the N word and calling women b**ches
Conscious rappers with food for thought, churn out the same dishes
Talking about riches, they eating well while stuck doing the same
Even though they see I’m threatened they stay chewing my name
The viewings the same all the time, all these cloned in new emcees
It’s like someone set out to hurt and eventually ruin me
We can make a change for better get back in tune with me
They say there’s no unity, strive for uplifting Hip Hop Community
If we just assume defeat then tell tomorrow, BYE, today
People don’t only want to hear about, guns, hoes, getting high, do they?
Guidelines to being successful unaware of the impact you make
Funny how money infatuates, but what we had in fact was great
My heart contracts an ache; things aren’t the same as they used to be
I took the beat boxers off the street so they can produce the beat
Those underground sounds, busking for pennies to owning shoes and exposure
Now having your name on clothes causes you to lose your composure
I did that, stopped a life of hardships and saved your life
And now it is to me they are trying to wave goodbye
From trying to make figures as thugs without two nickels to rub
I gave vultures a culture that was so simple to love
Simple enough? Then why you got to make it so arduous?
From breaking to emceeing, this lifestyle is an art to us
From being nameless street poets to causing charts to bust
It not just the music, it’s simply a part of us
“IT AIN’T NO JOKE� people sold out for queen heads and “DEAD PRESIDENTS�
Home is where this message hits, I am Hip Hop. But you are my residence.
____________________ S.H.O.W.M.A.N
Significant History Omitted While Misleading African Nations
Strengthening Hold On Where My Ancestors Nucleated
Submersed Heritage Overpowering Will Maintaining Adherence to Naija
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http://WWW.DSA-NIGERIA.ORG
____________________
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