VI. Can it Be All So Simple
(Can it be that it was all so simple then?)
Yes! That was the start of the deffest jam
But no! There’s a new plan to make all raps bland
& I’m wading thru it, treading thru this dip
To keep my head up I ain’t afraid to get up
I’m fed up with how these fans have let up
Set up told this is the new way
Forget it! If it’s in my tape deck I ain’t hitting play
That’s not hip hop evolving
That’s A&R’s with good problem solving
Economic crisis keep yr minds off the issues
I’d use yr liner notes for tissues just as soon as I’d diss you
& I can’t say I’d miss two MC’s today
Or misusing with an excuse to get suckers to pay
Yeah you could say I’m just too old ‘n’ cranky
But the music ain’t loud enough, let me put this frankly
The noise ain’t speaking much, rappers ain’t freaking funk
& I’ll close the genre shut cos each next CD sucks
Thinking about it makes me sicken – what am I missing?
Yr beats don’t bang ‘n’ I ain’t down with yr image
Yr lyrics aren’t speaking to the human condition
There ain’t no huge rap posses hungry on a mission
Taking out the suckers!

Remember back in the days? One thing was on my list (taking out suckers!)
NSFTM is at the battles ‘n’ yer required to get dissed (taking out suckers!)
Rock the old school beats we could not be faded (taking out suckers!)
A rhyme ain’t a rhyme unless it’s time related
& that’s the way that I say it (can it be that is was all so simple then?)

You don’t get the credit cos I guess you don’t deserve it
Guilty of perverting purity I’m handing out the verdict
& you’ve cursed it we’ll stop falling for it
Radios turned to zero all those snaps we ignored it
& I ain’t for it when you say it’s a matter of taste
It’s a matter of being bored at the words that you say
What’s the matter with judging? Yr art is doodoo
It’s not a matter of fact it’s a matter of truth
It’s not subjective taste like salad or soup
& yr whack pudding soft rhymes are the proof
It ain’t all good stomp the relativism
BDP over kanye ‘n’ all those who roll with him
Just cos the industry’s got their lips all puckered
Doesn’t mean I’ll sit back I’m taking out the suckers
We’re yearning for the simple then
For the days of real rhyming men