Paroles de 'I Killed Hip Hop (part 2)' par JJ Demon

Yo, I killed hip hop, rim shot
In my purple flip flops, flex for the burbs
That's my word, I'm alfred hitchcock
It ain't the size of your boat, but if you got your shit docked
Then you're probably rappin' about your money
Get your wrist watch, tick tock
Maybe if I had it, I would do it, too

But I would rather make that
Shit that you bang at your funeral
Trashy and unusual, rugged like it's '93
I know you love it, but I love the way you keep remindin' me
Finally, this is like a breath of clean air in the ruins of a dynasty
Don't need to be scared
Listen rappers, you complete me, I could never lose you
Your emptiness inspires me entirely, it's voodoo
It's blood inside my diary, my wiring is off

Record labels should've fired me
The day I flipped the cross
Now I’m coming for your listeners
To open up their minds to what is really goin’ on
Here, let me open up the blinds
(See?) (see?) (see?)
Yeah, you’re in the same school
New grade level, class is in session

And I hope you brought
Your grade shuffle,open to today’s lesson
I watched these rappers gettin’ fatter while I starved
But I ain’t starvin’ no more, darling, I’m just watching my carbs
Everyone locking their cars like that shit’ll stop a beast
Your little ass called the jaws of life, you ain’t got the teeth
I know you’re lookin’ at my scars, it’s a hard brew to swallow
But if pain is beauty, I could be a supermodel

Hit the store, scoop a bottle
I don’t know how much you noticed
But I’m a little more vicious now
You’re licking your wounds
While I’m ripping all your stitches out
I’m listenin’ to a different tune, r.I.p. To rappers
We’ll be missin’ you, missin’ you
I don’t really listen to your shit more than twice
All that tryna be creative shit is nice
But I’m surprised to say that I don’t really feel it
And plus, I got the feelin’ that these kids want
Something with a little more feeling
(Really?) yeah, really

Now tell me, can you feel me in your bones?
Am I the spider you see crawlin’ across
The ceiling of your home when you’re alone
Tryin’ to call yourself an artist, and you mean it
But it’s hardest cause you know you ain’t as hard as jj demon
I got your beating heart inside my hand
Look at you all wide-eyed and entranced
I will bring you right back from the dead
So I can say bye-bye again, try again
Dyin’s what you wear the suit and tie for

To watch you blow your brains
Out in a car with suicide doors
Are you alive, whore?
What the fuck you alive for?
Try to survive less and die more, I’m the advisor
Don’t fuck with me, you won’t-won’t
Be cool, it’ll be me, and it won’t be you
Little me this on the little league list
You just use rap as a coping tool
Now I don’t know what you’re hoping to do
I’m an early lead broken in two
I’m doper than dope on the spoon
I’ll kill it and open a tomb

I remember when they wouldn’t even look at me
Now all the scene girls wanna throw a fuck at me
Really? You won’t know you’re dead
Until the walls start peeling
Revealing all of your fears had come true
Did I kill hip hop, or just kill you?
(Hip hop’s dead, hip hop’s not dead)
Really? You won’t know you’re dead until the walls start peeling
Revealing all of your fears had come true
Did I kill hip hop, or just kill you?

(Hip hop’s dead, hip hop’s not dead)
(Hip hop’s dead, hip hop’s not dead)
(Hip hop’s dead, hip hop’s not dead)
(Hip hop’s dead, hip hop’s not dead)
(Hip hop’s dead, hip hop’s not dead)