the 18th Letter made me a believer
that hip hop'll be back soon, emcees would no longer
rely on beats & corny cliches to carry their whole LPs
i knew it when i heard, "Mahogany"
...before you were an acronym chant'd on the 13th track
of an 8 mile struggle---audible & shrink wrapp'd
...see hip hop'll be back soon
she's been in rehab ‘cause rape crisis hotlines
weren't available when she was taken
against her will...
but she won't be gone long...
she's learnin to trust again...
plus, Common ain't holdin grudges 'cause he knows
it ain't her fault, & Pharoahe's too busy ticklin her with syllables
to ask her for a platinum chain, while Talib's been in her hospital room
at her bedside, serenadin & callin her from a coma...
callin her home...the prodigal daughter, soon to wear reggae
ragga and conscious calypso like a sarong across her torso...
oh “Lady Hip Hop,” born of the streets
...the graffiti tagg’d, beat box’d body of the city
where rhymes run feral & chaotic...barefoot
& adolescent, tearin over concrete...
tearin from limbo to infinity...
waitin for the return of substance
& consciousness...
waitin for you to love yourself again...
that hip hop'll be back soon, emcees would no longer
rely on beats & corny cliches to carry their whole LPs
i knew it when i heard, "Mahogany"
...before you were an acronym chant'd on the 13th track
of an 8 mile struggle---audible & shrink wrapp'd
...see hip hop'll be back soon
she's been in rehab ‘cause rape crisis hotlines
weren't available when she was taken
against her will...
but she won't be gone long...
she's learnin to trust again...
plus, Common ain't holdin grudges 'cause he knows
it ain't her fault, & Pharoahe's too busy ticklin her with syllables
to ask her for a platinum chain, while Talib's been in her hospital room
at her bedside, serenadin & callin her from a coma...
callin her home...the prodigal daughter, soon to wear reggae
ragga and conscious calypso like a sarong across her torso...
oh “Lady Hip Hop,” born of the streets
...the graffiti tagg’d, beat box’d body of the city
where rhymes run feral & chaotic...barefoot
& adolescent, tearin over concrete...
tearin from limbo to infinity...
waitin for the return of substance
& consciousness...
waitin for you to love yourself again...