La mort du HIP HOP

Citation : Artist: Common Sense
Album: Resurrection
Song: I Used to Love H.E.R.
Typed by: dj.flash@pobox.com

Verse One:

I met this girl, when I was ten years old
And what I loved most she had so much soul
She was old school, when I was just a shorty
Never knew throughout my life she would be there for me
ont he regular, not a church girl she was secular
Not about the money, no studs was mic checkin her
But I respected her, she hit me in the heart
A few New York niggaz, had did her in the park
But she was there for me, and I was there for her
Pull out a chair for her, turn on the air for her
and just cool out, cool out and listen to her
Sittin on a bone, wishin that I could do her
Eventually if it was meant to be, then it would be
because we related, physically and mentally
And she was fun then, I'd be geeked when she'd come around
Slim was fresh yo, when she was underground
Original, pure untampered and down sister
Boy I tell ya, I miss her

Verse Two:

Now periodically I would see
ol girl at the clubs, and at the house parties
She didn't have a body but she started gettin thick quick
DId a couple of videos and became afrocentric
Out goes the weave, in goes the braids beads medallions
She was on that tip about, stoppin the violence
About my people she was teachin me
By not preachin to me but speakin to me
in a method that was leisurely, so easily I approached
She dug my rap, that's how we got close
But then she broke to the West coast, and that was cool
Cause around the same time, I went away to school
And I'm a man of expandin, so why should I stand in her way
She probably get her money in L.A.
And she did stud, she got big pub but what was foul
She said that the pro-black, was goin out of style
She said, afrocentricity, was of the past
So she got into R&B hip-house bass and jazz
Now black music is black music and it's all good
I wasn't salty, she was with the boys in the hood
Cause that was good for her, she was becomin well rounded
I thought it was dope how she was on that freestyle shit
Just havin fun, not worried about anyone
And you could tell, by how her titties hung

Verse Three:

I might've failed to mention that this chick was creative
But once the man got you well he altered her native
Told her if she got an image and a gimmick
that she could make money, and she did it like a dummy
Now I see her in commercials, she's universal
She used to only swing it with the inner-city circle
Now she be in the burbs lickin rock and dressin hip
And on some dumb shit, when she comes to the city
Talkin about poppin glocks servin rocks and hittin switches
Now she's a gangsta rollin with gangsta bitches
Always smokin blunts and gettin drunk
Tellin me sad stories, now she only fucks with the funk
Stressin how hardcore and real she is
She was really the realest, before she got into showbiz
I did her, not just to say that I did it
But I'm committed, but so many niggaz hit it
That she's just not the same lettin all these groupies do her
I see niggaz slammin her, and takin her to the sewer
But I'ma take her back hopin that the shit stop
Cause who I'm talkin bout y'all is hip-hop

Citation : Artist: Krumb Snatcha
Album: Snatcha Season Pt. 1
Title: Hip Hop


*

[Krumb Snatcha]
Hip hop.. hip hop [4x]

This one here's dedicated to a special part of my life that's missing
If she's listenin, this one's dedicated to you
Come on, uhh

[Verse 1]
I remeber '89 when I ride the train
Did the knowledge to the bombers that was taggin up the name
Ghetto fame, was the only destiny
Some will be remembered, while the other rest will be..
Forgotten, hip hoppin on the old project roofs
Now it's bulletproofs, gettin wild, Cristal, eighty booth,
or get the bubblegoose, pass the O.E. boo
And let me reminisce of Hip-Hop and the things we used to do
I used to put 'em in positions, on top of a cardboard
Poppin and breakin and get it open like a condor
She been on rap tours for months
Liqour and blunts, doin raps, holdin gats, and rockin gold fronts
Before that rap in the Vicki Secret and Martinis
We was givin ourselves, nicknames in graffiti
Now it's Tahiti, hotels, suites, chanels
Italian shoes, now your rockin silk pastels
I can tell if our ending's, near or far
Now you drive expensive cars, hang with A and Nas
Left me and Kingo, to rap about your bankroll
Your fo', night after night after you do a pack rat show
I don't know, why you don't come around, how it sound
You hang with cowboys and Nino Brown
I miss you, but now you hold a pistol
Put it down c'mere, cuz Snatcha wanna kiss you

[Chorus] 2x
I miss Hip-Hop (Hip-Hop)
Yo where can she be?
Can't she see and hop along right here with me








[Verse 2]
Night after night I cry to sleep fearin the end
I called the Zulu Nation to help look for this lost friend
I went all around and asked everyone,
There's rumors she's seein some guy named KRS-One
I'm lost son, I hope Hip-Hop can hear
Without her there's no need for me to be here
We used to rock the radio, shack tables, the Realistics
I was simplistic but now your materialistic
Got to have the Technics, the minute, you sample her
Threw the beatmachine and keyboards inside the hamper
Havin temper-tantrums all on stage, just to get paid
Your gettin arrested, put on the front page
Never in my life I thought you'd act like this
The feelings I have for this longtime mis-tress
I reminisce in the basement with her for hours
And after verbal intercourse, I take a long shower (shower)
But all of a sudden, you don't wanna see me
Unsatisfied with 12" and got a CD
Can it be, her goddess listenin to this?
Cuz all I want Hip-Hop back with me for Christmas
I miss this, special part of my life
And when I see her again I'll make it sure she's my wife

[Chorus] 4x
I miss Hip-Hop (Hip-Hop)
Yo where can she be?
Can't she see and hop along right here with me

*repeat in background of outro*
scratching "Alright.. it's OK"

Ya move it to the left and the right y'all
Everybody represent this here right y'all
All the breakers gotta hit the dancefloor now
Graffiti artists, raise hands in the air y'all
Uh, uh uh...