---"For many people Hip Hop was that first friend… the first to talk to
us, the first to understand. Hip Hop has always been that kind of
friend to me. And like any relationship… I watched it grow, I watched
it change" --- Sanaa Lathan
Like you and yours I am a fiend for
good music, whenever my view on life becomes foggy and I have difficulty
finding my path I find my focus back through music. Any music. Through every
situation I have ever faced in my life, music has been the pillar on which I
leaned on, from the African drumbeats roaring in Oliver Mtukudzi and Mama Mirriam
Makeba’s sounds or the upbeat rhythm I find in Glen Lewis’ Mid Tempos and DJ
Fresh’s House Definitions, it could be the catchy melody in Trompies’ Malabulabu or Thebe’s Sokola Sonke, the blues in Nina Simone,
the jazz influence from Chrisette Michele or the sound of the cornet from Olu
Dara’s melodies to the near perfect cadence of his son- Nas- as he laces rhymes
over tight beats.
The point here is I love music, all
kinds of it, but at the same time I cannot front on this compulsive love for
Hip Hop, the history of this blog is enough to validate my lifelong love-hate
affair with it. For me, Hip Hop is not
just about fresh lyrics over dope cuts. It is a way of life, it is the air I
breathe and the bounce you see in my step. That is why I speak about her in
third person- as a noun, as an adjective, verb or any other way the English
language permits.
This is also why today I peep from
my shell to write to Hip Hop, to stress her impact on my life and to lay
emphasis on my disappointments with the path she chose. I don’t write to change
who and what Hip Hop has become, I write to get the load of my chest, to shed
feelings and thoughts and to heal from the pain that she has dragged me
through.
I know I should have heeded Nasir’s Message
When he told me that a thug changes, love changes
And best friends become strangers
I should have known the prerequisites to this love and hip
hop shit
That you just don’t open your heart and let her hit
Ya’ll forgot to mention that there’s levels to this ‘follow
your heart’ stream
The roses may be admirable but they are also as prickly as
they seem
Now I feel the thorn on my hide, still I should have known
That she would stay mine, that is until her head got blown
She went mainstream, became relatable and then unfamiliar to
me
Neglecting to remember that I was with her from the start
Or the person she was when we first made love
She fed of off my middle and my mind and then let me starve
And when I brought it up she act like I said I wanted half
What’s funny is she seems oblivious to what we were from the
genesis
She found herself in the heart of the city and that’s where
she thinks the love is
Dimmed memories as she waters down the role that I used to
play
Omitted thoughts- when she was down it was my knees that hit
the ground to pray
I played my part but you Hip Hop played my heart
Took me for a fool used me as a stepping stool and left me
in a rut
The accolades came they were wrapped in fame
I understand now that shit could not have stayed the same
What hip-hop never understood is that those who pioneered her
stay possessive
It’s their disposition although the new school thinks it’s
regressive
I mean how do you introduce me to Grandmaster Flash’s The
Message
And still think I’d feel the same when Soulja Boy Tell Em?
You acquaint me to KRS’s teachings on peace, love, unity and
having fun
And expect me to still hail Wacka Flocka and Chief Keef on
their run?
I know of your origins, I practically held you through them
You can’t blame me for seeing past your malleable façade in
this new term
I’m serene for knowing that I gave her my all
And although our demise she had tried to stall
She and I both know that it was inevitable this fall
So to you Hip Hop, I hope you’re happy and that you’ll
forever have a ball
Because now I know
That Hip Hop will not only come to Break You Off and maybe
Break Your Neck
But it’s also bound to Break Your Heart
I might fight for her and have my way cause I know with me
she came to stay
And even if she got around and asked for a new start
It would change nothing; I’d still rest one eye up
