lirik lagu the thought - not all emcees are created equal
[verse]
another man right out the catacombs
from when you didn’t grab the mic unless you had a bone to pick
with the system, and some life~learned wisdom
not a symptom of the sickness, but a cure in beta~testing
heard what they protesting, and you put your rhythms to it
and the contest was only ever over who could speak the truest
music for the movement, not so caught up in the moment
putting culture over everything, not letting ‘em control it
dopest got their roses and thе labels simply rolled with it
coldest got thе summers and the hottest got the winters
we wasn’t letting anybody pick and choose the winners
but the average person strolling down the road that heard a bold lyric
hope in their spirits that wasn’t quelled
by the prophets preaching profit, tryna lead us all to h~ll
the leaderboard was cedarwood, took artisans to carve it
when your name deserved the honor of the praise from fellow artists
charlatans put “how you charting?” over “how the art is?”
turned to artifice as authenticity became discarded
cardigans from abercrombie, bargain~bin~designer zombies
all proceeded falling on the false premise of a “hobby”
that much they could market to the moms and pops across the land
that couldn’t stand the “f~ck the cops” or comprehend the circumstance
capital investments had to happen for a certain handful
to make their way out of the slaughterhouse encampments
captains of the old guard were capped and turned to murals
as the cash~hungry b~st~rds pandered to the white and rural
with a neural image painted of a black planet feared
bought out all the radios to mock and call ‘em “weird”
when they spoke about philosophy, or how the white atrocities
that brought ‘em to the colonies could resonate in policies
that benefitted benefactors, placing bets on dead and backwards
to keep the blacks and hispanics second~class, forever after
actors did a good enough job to play the parts they got
same ones kept the populace unconscious in the parthenon
but thought’s descended from a lineage they couldn’t snuff
it wasn’t opulence delivered, it was whether bars were tough!
[chorus]
isn’t it a shame how the basics became so rare?
what a misery!
i wish your main motivation wasn’t getting paid
but the history!
i ain’t naming no names, but vocation used to mean
you knew all the trickery
used to be a promise that you wouldn’t use your knowledge of the problems
just to claim your own victory!
this an art that’s for the people!
not some media to pimp out!
we should never drop the needle…
if when it’s spinning, it just poisons the crowd
this an art that’s for the people!
human beings, what it’s really about!
‘cause we’re all created equal
but not emcees, ‘cause there’s really levels to it!
[verse]
if you’re never fluent in what’s brewing
in the proletariat, you’re only ever finding ruin
in the routes of human history, there’s streets you can’t eschew
and if you do, we only knew you as the newest sh~t on shoes
it’s a lucrative business, if your image stays protected
but the lesson that they never seem to learn is that it won’t
entropy is natural, and anything that’s factual
can only be obscured and not unheard once it’s spoke
you’ll never find the fire if you never chase the smoke
legends have retired before they realized the joke
the past that we’re nostalgic for, imaginary art of war
we lost the day we ever judged a man for being broke!
[chorus]
isn’t it a shame how the basics became so rare?
what a misery!
i wish your main motivation wasn’t getting paid
but the history!
i ain’t naming no names, but vocation used to mean
you knew all the trickery
used to be a promise that you wouldn’t use your knowledge of the problems
just to claim your own victory!
this an art that’s for the people!
not some media to pimp out!
we should never drop the needle…
if when it’s spinning, it just poisons the crowd
this an art that’s for the people!
human beings, what it’s really about!
‘cause we’re all created equal
but not emcees, ‘cause there’s really levels to it!
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