Phil Kaye - Hip-Hop Lullaby lyrics

Dear Nas Where does hip-hop go when it dies Is it all just maggots and flies Or will hip-hop rise and come again Come again Jay-Z Back again with Beyoncé and them That seems a lie Are you dispensing wisdom because I want to listen Or are you just throwing out this and that verbal Tit for tat mixing, fiction and fact Will hip-hop Fade to Black or merely rot to rap And who k**ed hip–hop Cause I heard she suffocated in a CD case Ma** marketed, 106 and Park-eted Sprite sponsorshiped Or was it Jacob the Jeweler, no dude was ever cooler Hip-hop had a G, see fooled ya Got you buying platinum nooses Throwbacks to white abuses Useless Or was it the Romans and Pontious Pilot Got his panties in a bunch and got violent Rolled up his sleeves and got physical Cause with crosses, resurrection and God's Son albums This sh** has become Biblical or Was it me Did I kick hip-hop Till it was sick, didn't stop Till it was sh**-fused pop Till it was blue in the face or White in the face or Was it me Cause I know at hip-hop's birth the room smelled thick of dark chocolate And decades later My white frosting might be ruining the recipe Me pretending the Teflon, ghost riding the Nissan Tryna put a few pounds on so I can fill out the Sean John Cause this movie plays like a detective movie With hip-hop chalk line, pool of blood deceased And then the camera pans up and there stands me Standing over with the smoking barrel of my wallet You see Nas, I agree with you Hip-hop is dead but it spread daughters and sons Rappers tryna climb the number one singing the same new song Of misogyny and guns Spitting in the face of their fathers Public Enemy, KRS-One Hip-hop is dead but it spread daughters and sons A generation of little faces being taught to shun Peace, humility and education When in California they estimate the number of jail cells to build By the number of fourth graders who can't read Hip-hop is dead but it spread sons and daughters and I ain't a player, I just f** a lot Doesn't leave room for fathers And hip-hop's buying college Crystal and sh** to snort Brenda's still gotta baby that she didn't abort And hip-hop's not been known to pay his child support So forget Mick Jagger Papa or that goddam magazine Hip-hop was the original Rolling Stone Traveling across the country, f**ing kids consensually And essentially leaving em alone And eventually leading em to unknown And essentially stripping me down to this poem And I'm not standing here trying to show em that hip-hop isn't beautiful Because it is Hip-hop is power But when did clenched fists relax to just this So if you're there hip-hop This is a prayer hip-hop You may have died for our sins But please come back cause once again We are ready to begin