Hip Hop Is Dead

Hip hop hip hop is dead

Hip--hip hop hip hop is dead

Hip--hip hop hip--hip hop is dead

Hip--hip hop hip hop hip hop

If hip hop should die before I wake

I'll put an extended clip inside of my AK

Roll to every station, murder the DJ

Roll to every station, murder the DJ

Hip hop just died this mornin'

And she's dead, she's dead

Yeah, niggaz smoke, laugh, party, and die in the same corner

Get cash, live fast, body their man's mama

Rich ass niggaz is ridin' with three llamas

Revenge in their eyes, Hennesy and the ganja

Word to the wise with villain state of minds

Grindin', hittin' Brazilian dimes from behind

Grindin', hittin' Brazilian dimes from behind

（Grindin', hittin' Brazilian dimes from behind）

Whenever, if ever, I roll up, it's sown up

Any ghetto will tell ya Nas helped grow us up

My face once graced promotional Sony trucks

Hundred million in billin', I helped build 'em up

Gave my nigga my right, I could have gave left

So like my girl Foxy, a nigga went Def

So nigga, who's your top ten?

Is it MC Shan? Is it MC Ren?

Hip hop just died this mornin'

And she's dead, she's dead

The bigger the cap, the bigger the peelin'

Come through, something ill, missin' the ceilin'

What influenced my raps? Stick ups and killings

Kidnappings, project buildings, drug dealings

Criticize that, why is that?

Cuz Nas rap is compared to legitimized crap

Cuz we love to talk on ass we gettin'

Most intellectuals will only half listen

So you can't blame jazz musicians

Or David Stern with his NBA fashion issues

Oh I they like me--in my white tee

You can't ice me, we here for life B

On my second marriage, hip hop's my first wifey

And for that we not takin' it lightly

If hip hop should die we die together

Bodies in the morgue lie together

All together now

Hip hop just died this mornin'

Hip hop just died this mornin'

Hip hop just died this mornin'

she's dead, And she's dead

Everybody sound the same, commercialize the game

Reminiscin' when it wasn't all business

If it got where it started

So we all gather here for the dearly departed

Hip hopper since a toddler

One homeboy became a man then a mobster

If the guys let me get my last swig of Vodka

R.I.P., we'll donate your lungs to a rasta

Went from turntables to mp3s

From Beat Street to commercials on Mickey D's

From gold cables to Jacobs

From plain facials to Botox and face lifts

I'm lookin' over my shoulder

It's about eighty niggaz from my hood that showed up

And they came to show love

Sold out concert and the doors are closed shut