Lazy219 & D.One - Hip-Hop

Was los mit Hip-Hop?
Nur noch Pisser ohne Aussage
Deutscher Rap ist gefickt ohne Ausnahme
Was los mit Hip-Hop?
Ah, wo ist der Sinn an der Sache?
Flext mit Millies in Tasche, was 'ne billige Masche
What's up with Hip Hop?
We're gonna go back to Rap that had a passion
Fuck all this flash and fashion
What's up with Hip Hop?
A time, when rhymes had a meaning behind
Now it's all just bitches behinds

D.One on the Track
Bitch we're back, and you know it
Make it slap, shut your trap cause you whack and you know it
Oh god, I hope that my ears deceive me
Why the fuck are you rappin' bout what you see on TV
You better hope, that you won't ever come near me
Eviscerate your tape like it ain't no biggie
Which it ain't, but who you should aspire to be
Who you inspirin' with that fucking trash EP?
Ain't you sick, and tired, of hearing all this shit?
Drugs and crimr, what's the point of it?
I thought rap used to be used for your mental
But now it's a fact this shit's driving me mental!
No, writing poetry ain't easy
But please take notes for quality is decreasin'
Jay and Em all the way to Weezy
I wanna go back to when life was easy
Don't even try, can't compete with me
As real as I seem, this here is artistry
You think that you're sly, you just a wannabe
Man I'm praying to God that someone hears my plea
Cause when I'm in my zone and I'm flowin', going so fast there's no slowin'
Ownin' these rappers that's posing, boasting going out and talking bout how they hard
And you know it, but all I see is a grown up, acting like he never grow up
It's embarrassing, and where are you parent's in, all this mess
I guess that's bad parenting
Say you're the best, but I'm not aware of it
Don't rap to impress, that's how I know I'm talented
These raps, expose my weakness, the bleakness
A relapse, had on my dearest and sweetest, Mom
I know I got to beat this and be this
Superhuman and get us through all of the shit we gon' do
I know you'd never speak on my name if only you knew
Who the fuck gon' stop us, don't you know I'm fucking heartless?
Don't need an entourage if I gotta imma box ya
Crush like an anaconda cause no one's gonna touch my mama!
I know you fucking wanna try and start some worthless drama
I gotta pace myself, won't incarcerate myself
You see me as a psycho but you're outta luck
I'm worse, I'm someone who just doesn't give a fuck

Was ist mit Deutschrap passiert?
Wieso sind Rapper heute nicht mehr real?
Wieso erzählt keiner mehr was von sich?
Und warum ist keiner hier besser als ich?
Denn es gibt nur noch tracks-bitende, flex-zeigende, whack reimende Proleten
Was wollen diese Pisser gegen ein am text-feilenden
Echt-bleibenden, ketten-reimenden Poeten
Ihr alle seid nicht echt und deswegen fick ich jeden
Diese Rapper und die Songs man wird sie mit der Zeit los
Das ist für die Ewigkeit, diese Tracks sind zeitlos
Alle sind geblendet von Fame und dem Geld
Glaubt ihr wirklich das man euch in 10 Jahren noch kennt?
Früher wurd' man durch Talent reich
Heute sucht man nur verzweifelt nach 'nem Endreim
Ich suche Rap vom Herzen und jetzt fickt es mich
Ah, das hier wird der dritte Teil von gibt es dich

Nur noch Pisser ohne Aussage
Deutscher Rap ist gefickt ohne Ausnahme
Was los mit Hip-Hop?
Ah, wo ist der Sinn an der Sache?
Flext mit Millies in Tasche, was 'ne billige Masche
What's up with Hip Hop?
We're gonna go back to Rap that had a passion
Fuck all this flash and fashion
What's up with Hip Hop?
A time, when rhymes had a meaning behind
Now it's all just bitches behinds

Written by:
Dylan Cooper, Laslo Dosa

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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