Tom MacDonald – Dear Rappers

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 being famous and wealthy
I’m 28 and still praying 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 the boom-box and sit up by my desk
Listen to your music ’til I felt it in my chest, but
These days it’s like you don’t have nothing left
Your music feels kinda like you’re tryna write a check
Everything is digital, I mean no disrespect
But I’m paying even more, and 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 hoe”

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 can’t hear another fucking song about abusing 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
Rap just a marketing vehicle
For the product that the man wants you to buy
Rap about a full clip
Rappers just promoting different liquors and varieties or ways that you could die
Yeah
Dear rappers, can you help me?
Are you almost out of alcohol to sell me? Tell me
Cause drinking every night can’t be the way to getting wealthy
If I’m really bein’ honest all this shit is overwhelming
I need someone to look up to
You’re living in a country that elected Donald Trump
You’re living in a country where police are killing 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 teaching me to live like I know you never would
What you’re preaching to these kids is keeping 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

Updated: 27 February 2018 — 11:41

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