A Letter to All Those Who Truly Love Hip Hop

Shouldn't this country be in a state of alarm? Shouldn't there be conferences held, peace talks, a public investigation, or at least a news story or two? Why aren't people in a panic? No I'm not talking about Iraq, I'm talking about Hip Hop; she's being tortured and killed slowly in cold blood and we're standing by and watching her in pain and agony. I know this has been a touchy subject in the Hip Hop community since Brother Nasir went on record with his new album about her death and I'm sure we all have heard Young Geezy's response to this on a New York radio show (if you haven't, it's mandatory that you hear it). After Hip Hop is Dead dropped big industry name artists such as Lil' Wayne and Geezy retaliated holding their opinion that Hip Hop can't be dead because they feel what they produce is in fact Hip Hop music.

There is a clear division today between the old heads holding on to the essence and young bucks taking steps toward the future and the question is are we moving in the right direction? Fortunately I was born in a time that my childhood was saturated with the roots of Her KRS 1, Run DMC, Cold Crush, Big Daddy Kane, Eric B and Rakim, Slick Rick, Public Enemy, NWA and the list goes on and on. The stories they told were about my life and things I've seen. They turned everyday life into ghetto fairy tales that made heads knock and bodies rock. I know how it felt to hear 'Move the Crowd' for the first time and I thought I would explode the feeling She gives you is like no other. But things change and time moves on and Jay Z, Tupac, Nas, and countless others took the reigns and led us fully into the mainstream still holding on to those roots, I can remember hearing 'Life's a {explicit}' and feeling a tingle through my veins and goose bumps on my flesh thinking somebody pull the bell this has to be the last stop, this is music, this is Her calling to me through these speakers. They had a purpose a goal, they educated, romanced, and schooled our ears to what we needed to hear blunt and without sensor.

That was before video killed the Hip Hop star, before the seduction of the fame and jewels, before any rapper chose to compromise their heritage for spins. This was before Puffy forced us to wear those shiny suits, before Tupac was slain, before Big L was killed and we lost Easy to the virus. This was a time were the rhymes were pure and all you needed was a fly DJ on the on the 1's and 2's to rock the mike. Fast forward to now, today I watched an hour of videos and I saw a lot of half naked women, I can tell you every high end vehicle on the market, and I can tell you how much everyone's jewels cost but I didn't hear one lyric the BS was just too loud. Now I know how to lean with it and rock with it, and I know why some cat is hot. Now we live in a time that if you have a good beat and an okay hook (thanks $0.50) you can go platinum in a week with out anyone realizing you're whack.

I don't want to make a blanket statement like She's dead because there are a chosen few holding on to what's real but if Mobb Deep can sign to G-Unit and Mr. Cheeks can make 'Light's Camera Action' that has to be proof that She is on life support (and Freaky Tah is rolling over in his grave). The harsh reality of the state of Our music is that young boys and girls who don't know the essence first hand are growing up listening to garbage that's corrupting their minds. While the whole world is listening with bated breath for you to rhyme what are you gonna say? "He's a window shopper", what?!? Our children are looking towards you as a role model whether you like it or not. Nas and Tupac were mine who will be my son's Rich Boy? NO! So peace to all the Lupe Fiasco's and Joe Budden's who understand that She is worth more than this and I am officially putting out an APB on every {explicit} wearing a white tee, with his neck and wrist frozen, riding around on 26's looking for a Scott Storch beat. They must be found and captured before She truly dies.