(Verse 1)
If I say “I am hip hop”- what does that mean?
Am I chasing after the things I see on the screen?
Am I posted on the corner, pushing crack to the fiends?
Or best dressed, swagged out, and the girls think I'm clean?
Old folks say we living a dream, or even worse it's a curse
When a rapper grabs a pen to write a verse
Hit the web we blog, tweet and steal mp3s
Zombies to the Internet now instead of TV
Society is not in touch with reality
Whether that be the streets, or the university
Or even Christianity – what happened to our quest for truth?
Living so self-centered, it's affecting the youth
Rappers are preachers from the booth, ain't no use in lyin' ‘bout it
You say you ain't a role model, who gon' buy yo' album?
The kids-grown folk don't care bout yo' hits
I'm so sick of famous n***as acting careless wit they lips
Ok, what if we say it's really not a movement
It's just music, there ain't nothing to it
It's an industry we use it, a tool to get money
‘Cause these label heads already think we stupid
So if we get rich and sell out
We ain't gotta worry bout keeping it real, we can bail out
Nowadays the end justifies the means
‘Cause cash rules everything around me – CREAM!
(Chorus)
When I go to bed at night, I contemplate
Did I do the best I could with what I know today?
And if tomorrow never comes, will my soul be saved?
I gotta grow, I gotta give mo', the road's been paved…so
I listen to my hip-hop, criticize my hip-hop
Giving through my hip-hop, living through my hip-hop
Charging up my hip-hop, smarter ‘cause of hip-hop
At times tired of it, but still inspired by hip-hop
(Verse 2)
When I say “I am hip hop” – I know exactly what that means
But defining it is not a simple thing
You hear us say “it's all good,” it's cool to be a thug
And you made it once you're rich from the raps or the d**
Or both, but I would argue hip hop's much more
Still it includes all the things that I mentioned before
When I was young Master P taught me all about dope
And Too Short told tales about pimping hoes
But I also heard ‘Pac singing praises to his mama
Tellin' ladies “keep ya head up” through all the drama
Nas told me young blacks are born to be stars
And Lauryn warned “Karma! Karma! Come back to you hard”
This culture lifted, a stigmatism
That kept the world split by our race divisions
And different religions, we were trapped in the system
But the art of expression freed our voice from its prison
From the poor black ghettos to the Latin barrios
To mainstream America, the Netherlands, Tokyo
The world clearly shows that hip-hop accepts all faces
And bridges gaps like braces
So I smile wide, I represent with no shame
I'm a hip hopper, I wear the clothes I use the slang
I listen to it all, negative and positive
And I ain't the last one this music still teaching kids
(Chorus)