Hip Pop

[Chorus: repeat 2X]

Hip pop, they tap dance to sell a mil

While real emcees with skills don't got a deal

It's industry conspiracy to make us savage

Take off ya clothes to go gold, sell ya soul to live lavish

[Verse One]

It seems every man wanna be a pop star

It's obvious to me that you forgot who you are

These labels will have you wearing high heels and a bra

Cut the roots to ya tree and watch ya empire fall

Now hip hop is a tree, and trees live by their roots

All the roots live underground, water down me no salute!

They pimping the culture, the same vulture who stole ya agriculture

My vocab is ultra, I insult ya or nurture ya sculpture

It's like to get a record deal, you gotta get naked and kneel

Labels ain't checking for skills no more, they want sex appeal

No publishing checks in the mail

Don't you know when you become a slave to money

That's when you destined to fail

You swallowing so you can sell a million records

On magazine front covers butt naked

Used to be a queen who was highly respected

Now when I listen to ya album, shit get ejected

I didn't get the album out, somebody cock blocked it

In 99 I smacked the blackball right in the side pocket

When I drop it take ya plaque to the pawn shop and hock it

I'm taking all y'all money this year, extorting ya profit

Y'all got greedy and went commercial

And ya label's still jerking you

I'm starving all y'all niggaz this year, take it personal

[Chorus]

[Verse Two]

Fuck riding in limos nigga copyright ya demos

Cause they shiesty, labels are shiesty

Ya manager's stroking you, saying shows are promotional

Cause they shiesty, niggaz are shiesty

Stupid, the main niggaz who helped you get on

The first niggaz you shit on

You'll realize who love you when all ya money's giddone

They're smiling in ya face

Cause right now you're putting cake on their plate

Them the same niggaz that's scheming on ya safe - word!

It's the ones that sniff coke witcha, from broke to richer

Now they wanna cut ya throat and come and getcha

Ya fake acapellas can't really rock a farvela crowd

Ya head is full of helium, you floating in the clouds

On stage fronting like the solo type

Cloned my hip hop chromosomes, deep down you know Shabazz ya prototype

Don't even know how to hold the mic, trippin over the cables

Mumbling and stumbling into the turntables

Tap dancing, juggling, shuffling their feet smiling

The type of niggaz I be snuffing while their freestyling

Whether you're gold or you're platinum, I'm robbing and gatting them

And slapping them with an aluminum bat and busting a cap in them

Duct taping and gagging them, make 'em deep throat the magnum

Trapping them in alleys, where we're beating stomping and dragging them

Fuck selling my soul for that mansion and a yacht

I'd rather make salat and scrape the bottom of the pot

Real soldiers survive with 3 hots and a cot

You can't take them riches in the ground when you rot

Must have forgot, ya fans bought you to that altitude

And now you left them astray, ego got you confused

Son I be browsing, they tryna trap us all in public housing

How niggaz classic albums only sell 200 thousand

Labels be running sound scams on ya cream

That makes niggaz susceptible on going mainstream, they pulling ya strings

With marketing schemes extorting the fiends

They ain't gonna never tell you how many records you sold seen

Peace to all emcees staying true to their root

Don't sell their soul for the loot

And planting seeds in the youth and fuck the

[Chorus]

[Outro]

Hip pop, hip pop, hip pop we shoot

Empires will fall when you cut the trees root

Hip pop, hip pop, hip pop we shoot

Empires will fall when you cut the trees root