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United State of Rap
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A brief diatribe on the current state of hip-hop and momowilly's influence in the game.
hiphop real new poetry spoken word positive funny uplifting freestyle verse truth bars gritty wordplay a capella gully honest
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Honest, gritty, funny, acapella, gully, truth, real, uplifting, positive, new, hip-hop, poetry, spoken word, wordplay, bars, verse, freestyle,
momowilly, the best thing smoking, heard that hip-hop was dead and that they were looking for her. She's been known to slay beats and beasts with a vengeance. With a voice like cognac sprinkled with gravel, momowilly grabs and holds your attention. More than a spoken word artist, rapper, lyricist, or femcee, she is a philosopher with aphorisms frequently in rhyme. Crafting pieces that infuse traditional hip-hop, performance poetry, and comedy, she offers a style unlike any other. With sex appeal rivaling any in the game, momowilly eschews the tired "lick me to like me" brand of rhyme that her contemporaries used to shoot up the charts and, ultimately, drop out of America's consciousness just as quickly. "I can be the baddest with the phattest, but what else after that? Chicks need to step their game up," momowilly offers with an eye roll.
Song Info
Genre
Hip-Hop Spoken Word
Charts
Peak #4,291
Peak in subgenre #86
Author
momowilly
Rights
2007
Uploaded
September 05, 2007
Track Files
MP3
MP3 1.4 MB 127 kbps 1:33
Story behind the song
Wrote in response to the proliferation of wack shit in hip-hop that continues to sell and the square ones who make attempt to "fix" it.
Lyrics
They say Hip-Hop�s dead because it�s gotten old Subject matter�s the same only it�s platinum, not gold Still cold rockin� a party, we buying up them dranks Water�s extra low now in these rappers think tanks Though hip-hop�s high ranks, I�d say rap�s six feet deep Propagating self-hatred, negating uplifting for dance beat The sheep wanna keep the words of our peeps so sambo Songs ain�t worth hearing it�s how low you can go Not to say I don�t wanna hear it, just the balance is needed Hedonism should be fleeting, infrequent, not deep seeded Ya�ll ain�t reading lyrics to these insipid ass tunes playing Back in the days words came in the plastic CD case and Now they fakin, they makin tracks for constant booty shakin They takin our creativity, offering ways for extra caking They rakin� in the paper, but party anthem�s can be happy No need to spit lyrics about wars pyrrhic on beats snappy Wack ass spoken word artists trying but it ain�t working Egos just as big, crying more �cause they hurting? The need to feed their basest desires is under surface lurking Acting holier than thou like they don�t be in they crib twerking I�m murking the rest �cause there�s balance with my words an� Understanding what�s happening, genuine with my purpose An� gettin people to hear a good message that they can relate to There�s ways to get attention without making them hate you Not paying for pretend beef like 50 and Cam, I don�t rate you Dry snitchin, I guess, but I got a smile on my face, too Catch a case, too, and that�ll shoot ya shit to number 1 What about shots to Sean Bell never wearing cummerbund Or even dialogue about Africa unless it�s related to ice jewlery Diamond mines worth ya time but not famine or machine toolery It�s new to me, seeing our community pushing Uncle Tom foolery Hip-hop raised me, momowilly�s bout to kill all the bufoonery
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