Hip Hop’s Dilemma

What’s mine is mine

Including my music

Down to the hook / beat / melody / medium

But never mind the message

Ignoring it like we do the other issues

Because this is feel good music

No time for that Eco / environmental / energy efficient

(Privileged) stuff

As a whole we had none

And still continue to have none

So how you figure I ride for your cause now?

Oh, hip hop, how I loved you early

But we were both new

And young

And broke

So I let you get away with that smooth talk

That political talk

That how do I make my sistas and brothas lives better talk

But now

I’m in control though

Aware of my avarice

But I prefer to say my preference

Preferring the finer things / the shiny things / the disposable things

Oh, hip hop, they thought you would be thrown away too

But you stuck around teaching ghetto economic lessons

So now every time I come around your city bling bling

And I accept this

Torn between knowing better

And just not really giving a damn

Because the lifestyle you lead

Looks far better than what I have going on

Problematic?

Maybe.

Constantly comparing characteristics of your life to mine

Because what you have I don’t have

But I can buy it

Please just tell me where to buy it

Borderline masochism

Making, no forcing, me to be aware of my “lack of”

Oh, hip hop

There’s a thin line between love and hate

But the line began to blur

Somewhere between bottle poppin and buyin out the club

It’s getting harder for me to tell what’s real

So I’ll just take it all as worthy

Worthy of imitation / reiteration / duplication / amplification

You see,

And I cannot be asked to stunt softer

I’m a hustler baby, I just want you to know

It’s not about my brain / but just spending this dough

But don’t look at me with those judging eyes

Like poor little hip hop girl

Isn’t this just the dream

Our dream

The American dream

This is success

Get money

Get attention

Get recognition

Get validation

Get more money

Oh hip hop, we’re stuck in this never ending loop

Remixing and remediating selfish consumption

To people (by choice or by circumstance) without ability

To discern borrowed chains and rented mansions

But what do I expect when

Money as the root of all evil

Might be far too simple

What are we doing with our checks?

Oh, hip hop

Making it rain at the strip club

Only creates thunderstorms of missed opportunity

(And paper cuts in unmentionable places)

Can’t afford milk and eggs

But I identity with Jacob the jeweler

Maybe if this is only a he thing

Then this materialism thing

Is a man thing

Not a woman thing

A you thing

Not a me thing

But in our quest to be independent

We just acquired more and more things

On budgets made of shoe string

Who cares! Got me a certified VBS diamond ring

Oh hip hop, to be one of the boys

I just have to shop like them

Can’t talk like them

Walk like them

Or have sex like them

But there’s equality in exploitation

Economically speaking

Taking care of school / work / household

Is good

But not good enough

So instead ill get my hair did

My nails did

Feet did too

And this makes me

Unfortunately this is not a him versus her

Or what is versus what were

Because time moves along

Propelling us to be progressive

In how we buy

And share

And save

And interact

Oh hip hop, don’t fall behind

Like the guy that wears cornrows past his prime

Hesitation in your resignation of getting

Money / paper / cheese / cheddar / scrilla or guap

Affects your followers’ ability to live and live well  

You see,

I don’t know where we went astray

What once was about collective thought / group action / communal bonding

Turned stale

Happy for your commercial success

Selling out arenas / selling out records / selling out the land

Oh, hip hop I’ve loved you and followed you

And you reciprocate with images of decadence

That cost more than my few paltry cents

So it seems that what we have been sharing

Has been of no real value or virtue

So, where do we go from here because

 

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