Revolution

The Revolution will not be televised…
Now is the time to Rise Up
Wise up, let the mind stand up
We in a state of crisis, mind paralysis
They want to know what’s the urgency?
It’s a state of emergency
Mental towers being knocked down by media planes
The common sense of the masses locked down in concentration camps
And the ones with the real thoughts being exiled
Told us resistance was futile…
Welcome To America

Open the iris of your ears and observes your surroundings,
Open the eardrums of your eyes and hear your surroundings,

The diamonds we lust for has a whole nation dying,
Infinite bloodshed for wealth…. show me the way to Zion
Indirectly pulling triggers, we mass murdering
Manufacturing future Killers and Drug Dealers
Not enough Doctors and Teachers
Instead we praise the ones who doctor the contracts and deceive the people
A Lawyers mind, the way of the nation, they not working for you or me…their boss’s name is Capitalism…

We kill for fashion, beauty, and sex
When it’s all gone tell me what’s left…
We rocking the latest trends from the sweat shops
Just to say we in on the Hype, and only cop from the best spots
Something in our blood that makes us idolize material possessions
Instead of being wise and investing
The injured heart of a young dark skin girl, who was told her ebony skin wasn’t appealing,
Want her to shed like a snake, gain a lighter complexion
She’s what society calls…Perfection
She got mouths to feed…So by all means necessary, her mentality is X’s philosophy
Showered by Washington, Hamilton, Jackson, and Benjamin
She’s trying to make ends meets…but she’s dying inside
Nobody told her she could do better

So, when it’s all gone tell me what’s left…

For a necklace, somebody went neck less
A mother lost her son, and a brother got reckless
Copped a gun, went searching for people who did it
Two shots fired, a son just lost his father
The police look around and say why bother…this is the cycle of homicide
Open your eyes… Open your eyes
We at War… with ourselves
Africa isn’t the only place with Genocide
Welcome to America

I Am Hip-Hop

A Wise man told me that Music is in all of us

It’s the tune that keeps our heart beating every second of every hour

That keynote that makes us vibe with the masses in our head

The strings to our limbs that control us like puppets

Yet, Music can both create and destroy us at the same time…

It was my Genesis and Destruction

I was about nine, when I heard DMX, and became a fiend

Thinking that calling women bitches and ho’s was the right thing

Because I somehow was confused, or perhaps it was he whom had it misconstrued

Cause my Mother wasn’t a bitch...

She was a Queen of many proportions, always preaching U.N.I.T.Y.

Yet I still injected lyrics in my arms like a crack fiend waiting for his next fix

Until the well ran dry and I looked for bigger and faster drugs

It was then I stumbled upon Pac, and I thought Me Against The World was the soundtrack to my life

A short skinny suburban gangster imitator, yelling out the word Nigger

Not knowing the impact of the word and how it condemned my brothers and I to an eternal prison in the wandering depths of society,

And...Without a Reasonable Doubt…Jay taught me that a life of crime could be the come-up,

Instead of telling that little boy back then that it was a gateway to suffering, pain, and death

A very lonely road, where the last time you see your brothers and sisters are in newspapers and on milk cartons

There were ample nights where I wanted to clean out my closet like Eminem

But I just did not have it in me…

We were cut from different cloths and although it seemed our feelings were similar, I just could not disrespect my mother for she had also been my father

I too know what it’s like to be a bastard…

Years of music and the lyrics mold like a gargantuan anthology

Coded by emotions they become easy to find, play, pause, and rewind

There exists instructions guides on how to rob a bank, the successful ways to shoot your brethren, and pimp out your sisters for a profit

Yet I still quest with my tribe…blasting my Hip-Hop

It wasn’t too long before I was familiar with the colors of the rainbow, specifically red and blue

Somewhere along with the times it became cool for a Crip to drop a Blood but not shed a tear for a brother lost to black on black violence, staying true to their flag

Dam…but I love my music

A friend of mine named Nasir, told me a story were I had to Rewind a days events to get the gist, turning my mind upside down but I was left intrigued, until I became a rebel to the turning clogs of society that rendered me useless, and found myself being what I wanted to…be

With my music glaring in between the grooves of my brain I never found it Ludacris in disturbing the peace

But I found it ridiculous to tell a bitch to move; because that same bitch was a sister, someone’s daughter, or even a Mother, only made a female animal by my choice of diction

And while you probably think I’m rejecting decades of cultural creativity, I reassure you that I am not…. just pointing out alternative messages behind the lyrics we all sing aloud and rejoice like church hymns.

No matter what we do the lyrics do not change and neither do the words of the Wise Man…We Are Hip-Hop…. I am Hip-Hop