Letra de Hip-hop-cracy

Verse 1
Where my riders for life in this rodeo,
Who know what´s it´s like to have been Pinocchio
And living the life of slang and colloquial
Let me take you to school like parochial
Tokyo got heat for your Nokia
Hip-Hop World wide and appropriate
But when it tries to make God an associate
Even your phone ringer brings the atrocious
Back up young buck, I know I stretched that word
Ain´t nobody hear it, you ain´t have to stress that word
Ain´t nobody fear it, you ain´t have to stress that word
But when people say that got the Spirit...
Stress that Word!
Now Hip-Hop music makes the world go round
On a turntable axis and a vinyl ground
Needle over the equator and they dropped it down
That pop and that click was a static sound
Now that click and that pop is an automatic round
Hip-Hop wears an autocratic crown
Who gonna tell this Art anything now?
´Cause Hip-Hop can´t even hear Hip-Hop now

Verse 2
So as Hip-Hop rocks to the break of dawn
Don´t nobody leave ´til six in the morn´
And they all come home like the "Children of the Corn"...
Just here to make a killing and they gone
Hip-hop used to say, "Rock on, baby bubba!"
Now it´s dang diggy dang da dang!, more baby mothers
And less men at work
And that´s even from the "windows to the walls" of the Church
And it´s becoming a concocted mixture now
We record contrary tracks and try to mix it down
And people all confused and don´t know what to do
I heard a brother leave the church talking bout´, "Holler-Lu!"
And another cat talking bout´, "Praise the Ford!"
The same cat won the "Most Pimped Out" church van award
And though I´ve never seen guns
I did see a guy pull out a knot and start speaking in ones
Another said, "Pot is good, all the dime, and all the dime pot is good!"
And if it ain´t hit your town, then it could
Hip-Hopcracy don´t discriminate by block or hood

Verse 3
Well now if Hip-Hop is gonna be true to life
Then Hip-Hop´s gotta be true to Christ
´Cause as the Hebrew writer cites,
His creative endeavors made all things and hold all together
So that kick and snare that jerks your spine is ´cause God made noise work by design
So it´s Divine and not by chance that you can make a hot track and do a little dance
And write a little rhyme
Ain´t that crazy?
Words whose sounds match that stimulate the mind
And what if you can write a verse?
How you paying homage to music´s Maker with punchlines of curse?
And the stanza´s that modern man does are full of vanity, vulgarity and propaganda
But I guess that´s this age -
We Thugs and Fools
We even stick God up and saying, "Run the jewels!"
But God ain´t the type to lay down flat and put His hand behind His head and turn His back
He´s the type to look right back down your pipe
And see the Cross in the crosshairs of your site
And be like, "Oh you sticking me up? No you´ not...
I´m loaning you my stuff, but you on the clock.
And when that last tic-tocks, I´m coming to your block
To see what you did with my Son and with my Hip-Hop!"
So woe to all men who have abused the craft with unjustified math and filthy cash
"Will a man rob God?" No indeed
But that´s the sin and attempt of Hip-Hop-cracy