It goes one for the B-Boys doing battles for the fans

And two for writers burning aerosol cans

And three for the DJ’s two records, scratching, blending

And four for the emcee whose rhymes are never ending

It’s bigger than the music and the music is called Rap

What they calling Hip-Hop, is just a trend called trap

And the name implies they cook in a kitchen with empty cupboards

But most these kids ain’t ever seen a life outside the suburbs

Doesn’t matter where you’re from but the youth are misdirected

And they talk about a life of which they have no real perspective

While lyrically it’s clear they’ve spent no time to build their craft up

By studying the greats and then comparing how they stack up

They quick to post a track up and hope the get a lot of likes

It takes more to an emcee than a laptop and mic

With every copy of a copy there’s diminished resolution

And Hip-Hop is not a music, it’s a fucking institution

If you take away the essence of what gives a thing it’s nature

All that’s left is but a ghost of what was once something far greater

Like all the money in your pocket ain’t worth nothing but the paper

Or you eat your favorite meal but ask they take out all the flavor

Ya’ll really get it lit? Shit, Mike is shutting off the breakers

Til you kiddos come around and give it up to the creators

To me ya’ll sound fabricated, rapping simulators

If Hip-Hop died then I’ve applied rhyme defibrillators

These kids’ egos are fragile because their story’s suspicious

And they try to sell a truth they know is completely fictitious

And now a wave of kids is rummaging through medicine cabinets

They have no fear that in a year they might be heroin addicts

And it’s tragic but they heard their favorite rapper when he said

That popping pills makes you a star but poppin’ pillies makes you dead

Profiteering from another family following a hearse

Yeah I know it’s been a problem but you ain’t gotta make it worse

And Yo, I know that every artform will evolve as time unfolds

And artists will emerge that break outside the standard molds

Challenge status quos, experiment with flows

But if you ain’t got a foundation then your structure will erode

All is due to the juggernauts before who laid the ground work

Vinyl breakbeats and a mic to make the sound work

If you’re creating something call it yours and represent

But we won’t say it’s Hip-Hop unless it’s got those elements

If you take away the essence of what gives a thing it’s nature

All that’s left is but a ghost of what was once something far greater

Like all the money in your pocket ain’t worth nothing but the paper

Or you eat your favorite meal but ask they take out all the flavor

Ya’ll really get it lit? Shit, Mike is shutting off the breakers

Til you kiddos come around and give it up to the creators

To me ya’ll sound fabricated, rapping simulators

If Hip-Hop died then I’ve applied rhyme defibrillators