Paroles de 'Dear Rappers' par Tom MacDonald

Man, it's easy for these rappers who have it all
Talk about the days when they used to be sad
I guess I can't relate to bein' famous and wealthy
I'm 28 and still prayin' for the day I have a chance
Maybe y'all can help me out though
I'm just tryna take care of my household
I don't even wanna make my mouth gold
I just wanna win before the system
That I'm in gets a hold of me again
And starts to squeeze under my chin until I'm out cold
Dear rappers can you help me
I'll even take a selfie with your album that I bought
I got every single CD that you ever fuckin' dropped
I spent everything I had, and I never have a lot
Oh my God, what a mess
Your words help me deal with the stress
Used to contemplate my suicide the nights I was depressed
Used to pop you in a boom-box and sit up on my desk
Listen to your music 'til I felt it in my chest, but
These days it's like you don't have nothin' left
Your music feels kinda like you're tryna write a check
Everything is digital, I mean no disrespect
But I'm payin' even more, a
Nd you give me even less, what the fuck?
You taught me to think, you taught me to grow
You taught me the things to survive on my own
But now you teach me to drink, you teach me to smoke
You teach me to think, every woman's a ho

I don't want your Xanax bars
Or your fancy foreign cars
Throw your money in my face
And try to tell me that it's art
No-no-no, no, no
No-no-no, no, no (yo)
Just a drug addict on TV

I can't hear another fuckin' song about abusin' medication
That I had to take just to stay alive
There's more important shit
Than what you wear and where you live
And who you fuck and what you drink
And what you spend and what you drive
Rappers full of bullshit
Rappers just a marketing vehicle for the product
That the man wants you to buy
Rap about a full clip
Rappers just promotin' different liquors
And varieties of ways that you could die, yeah
Dear rappers, can you help me?
Are you almost out of alcohol to sell me? Tell me
'Cause drinkin' every night can't be the way to gettin' wealthy
If I'm really bein' honest all this shit is overwhelmin'
I need someone to look up to
You're livin' in a country that elected Donald Trump
You're livin' in a country
Where police are killin' people every day
And all you wanna talk about is doin' drugs
You've been blinded by the money
You've been blinded by the cars
You've been blinded by the women
Don't know who the fuck you are

Thought I knew you when I spent a hundred dollars on a ticket to your show
And now I feel like you stole my fuckin' money and I'm broke
Man, you taught us how to rap, and you taught us how to dress
And you taught us how to act if we wanted to impress
Now you're teachin' me to live like I know you never would
What you're preachin' to these kids is keepin' them inside the hood

I don't want your Xanax bars
Or your fancy foreign cars
Throw your money in my face
And try to tell me that it's art
No-no-no, no, no
No-no-no, no, no
Just a drug addict on TV

I don't want your Xanax bars
Or your fancy foreign cars
Throw your money in my face
And try to tell me that it's art
No-no-no, no, no
No-no-no, no, no
Just a drug addict on TV, yeah