2Pac:And since we all came from a woman, got our name from a woman and our game from a woman, I wonder why we take from our women. Why we rape our women, do we hate our women? I think it's time to kill for our women, time to heal our women, be real to our women. And if we don't we'll have a race of babies that will hate the ladies that make the babies. And since a man can't make one, he has no right to tell a woman when and where to create one.
Jay-Z:Silly rappers, because we got a couple Porsches, MTV stopped by to film our fortresses. We forget the unfortunate. Sure I ponied up a mill, but I didn't give my time. So in reality I didn't give a dime, or a damn. I just put my monies in the hands of the same people that left my people stranded. Nothin' but a bandit, left them folks abandoned. Damn, that money that we gave was just a band-aid, can't say we better off than we was before.
Kanye West:Is it genocide? 'Cause I can still hear his momma cry, know the family traumatized. Shots left holes in his face, 'bout piranha-size. The old pastor closed the cold casket, and said the church ain’t got enough room for all the tombs. It’s a war going on outside we ain’t safe from, I feel the pain in my city wherever I go. 314 soldiers died in Iraq, 509 died in Chicago.
Mos Def:When the average minimum wage is $5.15, you best believe you gotta find a new grind to get cream. The white unemployment rate, is nearly more than triple for black so frontliners got they gun in your back. Bubblin crack, jewel theft and robbery to combat poverty and end up in the global jail economy. Stiffer stipulations attached to each sentence. Budget cutbacks but increased police presence. And even if you get out of prison still livin join the other five million under state supervision. This is business, no faces just lines and statistics from your phone, your zip code, to S-S-I digits. The system break man child and women into figures. Two columns for who is, and who ain't niggaz. Numbers is hardly real and they never have feelings but you push too hard, even numbers got limits. Why did one straw break the camel's back? Here's the secret: the million other straws underneath it - it's all mathematics
Lupe Fiasco:I really think the war on terror is a bunch of bullshit. Just a poor excuse for you to use up all your bullets. How much money does it take to really make a full clip. 9/11 building 7 did they really pull it. And a bunch of other cover ups. Your childs future was the first to go with budget cuts. If you think that hurts then, wait here comes the uppercut. The school was garbage in the first place, thats on the up and up. Keep you at the bottom but tease you with the uppercrust. You get it then they move you so you never keeping up enough. If you turn on TV all you see’s a bunch of “what the fucks”. Dude is dating so and so blabbering bout such and such. And that aint Jersey Shore, homie thats the news. And these the same people that supposed to be telling us the truth. Limbaugh is a racist, Glenn Beck is a racist. Gaza strip was getting bombed, Obama didn’t say shit. Thats why I aint vote for him, next one either. I’ma part of the problem, my problem is I’m peaceful. And I believe in the people.
Eminem:I deserve respect; but I work a sweat for this worthless check, Bout to burst this tech, at somebody to reverse this debt. Minimum wage got my adrenaline caged full of venom and rage, And my daughter's down to her last diaper. I pray that god answers, maybe I'll ask nicer.These overnight stars becoming autograph signers.We all long to blow up and leave the past behind us. Cause we see them dollar signs and let the cash blind us Money will brainwash you and leave your ass mindless. My life is full of empty promises and broken dreams. I'm hoping things will look up, But there ain't no job openings.I feel discouraged hungry and malnourished. Living in this house with no furnace, unfurnished...And I'm sick of working dead end jobs with lame pay.And I'm tired of being hired and fired the same day. But fuck it, if you know the rules to the game play. Cause when we die we know were all going the same way. Walk around depressed and smoke a pound of ses a day and yesterday went by so quick it seems like it was just today. My daughter wants to throw the ball but I'm too stressed to play. Live half my life and throw the rest away
then there's lil wayne and his crew who make it look bad:
lil wayne:i like my house big and my grass soft pussy pussy pussy
nicki minaj:you a stupid hoe, you a stupid hoe
tyga:got yo grandma on my dick, 10 10 10 20's
Posts like these annoy me SO MUCH.
It's picking and choosing the most conscious rhymes from some rappers and comparing them to some of the most ignorant rhymes from others to prove a completely biased point. Everything is so out of context.
Let's take Pac, who I love. They took his verse from Keep Ya Head Up, but did you forget about "First off, fuck your bitch and the click you claim, West side when we ride come equipped with game, You claim to be a player, but I fucked your wife..." from Hit Em Up?
or Jay-Z "Fuck it, I might wife you and buy you nice whips. Ma, but you really gotta ride nice dick. Know how to work your hips and your head's priceless"
THEN are you kidding? Eminem is a lyrical genius but even he has songs like "So you can suck my dick if you don't like my shit, cuz I was high when I wrote this so suck my dick" which is a classic by the way.
Then they hit it with the ridiculous Wayne and Nicki quotes... Did we forget that "How To Love" was all about an abused woman who was victimized and degraded by society? You can easily google Nicki Minaj song lyrics and find "Dear God, I am only what you made me, And I appreciate everything that you gave me. But like, I don't wanna do it no more, Sort of lost sight of what I'm doin' it for. Thought that I was doin' somethin' good for the game, Until they all started throwin' dirt on my name." Way different than stupid hoe, right?
Rappers write about how they feel at different times and moments. It's possible to talk about the struggles of humanity one moment and then wanting to get pussy the next moment. We're human beings, we're complex. So please before you reblog some dumb shit like this and insult someone's craft, THINK ABOUT IT! lol
“It’s when I’m standing six feet away from you and not being able to find the words to tell you how much I love you and how much I miss you that I want to just scream to the whole room that I’m still in love with you. It’s when I’m sitting alone with the phone in my hand dialing your number and hanging up that I would trade a thousand tomorrows for just one yesterday. Then I could just call you to tell you goodnight. It’s when I am really sad about something and need someone to talk to that I realize you’re the only one who really knew me at all. It’s when I cry myself to sleep at night and it hits me how much I would give to hold you at that very moment. It’s when I think about you that I realize no one else in the world is meant for me.”—James Frey, A Million Little Pieces (via 12osecuy)
Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn’t it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life…You give them a piece of you. They didn’t ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn’t your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like ‘maybe we should be just friends’ turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It’s a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love. yeadigg
When he arrived, Chen was at the bottom of the social hierarchy: a newcomer to his unit, a lowly private, still just a teenager, in a combat zone for the first time. And the only Chinese-American in his platoon. In a meeting with Chen’s parents on January 4, Army officials said that his superiors had considered him not fit enough when he arrived, and singled him out for excessive physical exercise: push-ups, flutter-kicks, sit-ups, sprints done while carrying a sandbag. Such punishments resemble the “smokings” that drill sergeants mete out at basic training to correct mistakes. But, in Chen’s case, it wasn’t long before this campaign of “corrective training” escalated into sheer brutality.
The eight men later charged in connection with his death are all white and range in age from 24 to 35; they include one lieutenant, two staff sergeants, three sergeants, and two specialists. Members of this group allegedly harassed and humiliated Chen from almost the day he arrived at The Palace. They belittled him with racial slurs. They forced him to do push-ups with a mouthful of water, refusing to let him swallow or spit any out. And, on September 27, a sergeant allegedly yanked him out of bed and dragged him across about 50 yards of gravel toward a shower trailer as punishment for supposedly breaking the hot-water pump. He endured bruises and cuts on his back. Army officials told Chen’s family that although the leader of his platoon found out about this incident, he never reported it as he was required to.
One week later, on the morning of October 3, Chen was scheduled to report for guard duty at 7:30 a.m. But when he got to the guard tower, he realized he’d forgotten his helmet and didn’t have enough water. A superior sent him back to the trailer to get what he needed, then allegedly forced him to crawl, with all his equipment, across some 100 meters of gravel in order to return to the tower so he could start his shift. While he was on the ground, two other superiors pelted him with rocks. And once he reached the tower, a superior grabbed him by his body armor and dragged him up the steps.
He entered the tower at about 8 a.m. The soldier he was relieving asked him if he was okay. “No sweat,” Chen answered. The other soldier left. At 11:13, from inside the tower, the sound of a gunshot echoed through the Palace
These days, inside the Chens’ apartment, the loudest sound is the hum of the two fish tanks in the living room. For the past three months, a shrine to Danny Chen has been sitting atop a foldout table in the corner of this room. A framed photo of him in his dress blues looks out over a scented candle, a vase of lilies, the folded-up American flag that once covered his casket, a folded-up Alaska flag (sent by the governor of Alaska), a few medals, and a thick pile of condolence letters typed on official stationery—from the secretary of the Army, the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, the secretary of Defense.
In the center, a plate holds Danny’s favorite foods. One morning in December, there are cookies, clementines, and an open bag of Skittles. A few packets of ketchup are visible underneath, at the bottom of the plate, left over from earlier meals. His mother changes the offering every few days, usually American food, since that’s what he preferred: sometimes Burger King, sometimes Subway, sometimes pizza. Two plastic bottles—one Coke, one water—stand next to the plate.
Down the hallway, inside his bedroom, the doorway still shows the marks he made recording his high-school growth spurt. His collection of video games—mostly shooter games like Dead Space and Left 4 Dead—line a shelf above his desk. And now three plastic crates cover the bedroom floor, each filled with clothes that were shipped back from Afghanistan.
For his mother, walking by this empty room every day has become too painful to bear; she and her husband have put in for a transfer to move to another apartment. On an afternoon not too long ago, she and Danny’s father showed me into Danny’s room. His mother remained in the hallway, a tissue in one hand. When asked how she is holding up in the wake of her son’s death, she lifts the tissue to her eyes. “I’d rather go with him,” she says.