I'm Officially Old. . .

What the hell has happened to our black music today?
Is this the best we can do since the days of Marvin Gaye?

Tired ass basic lyrics over machine created beats
No more love talk, now we just sound like dogs in heat

I remember there was a time I thought I’d never get tired of rap music
Now I’m sick of it and how they take the old great songs and fuse it

So called gangstas and thugs, claiming hard lifestyles a plenty
When most of you have so much money you’ve started your own private companies

Let’s strip it back down, take music where it should be
All this extra, extra ish ain’t really movin’ my feet

All this extra, extra takes us further from just you and me
I can’t tell if you pubbin’ music or just sellin’ pu$$y

Kill this, kill that, don’t need to hear it anymore
We already got a government designed to kill away all our poor

All this madness is so dizzying it’s gonna make me hurl
I ain’t tryin to save the world and no I don’t want your girl

Well maybe I do. . .I want her to put her clothes back on
Get a new job and stop playin the role of sex slave in our songs

And stop showin’ her “stuff” to entertainers and video cameras
Sleazy business manipulators and magazine slanderers

Give me a nice two step against some horns and some drums
A black man crooning about his wife and baby sons

Lyrics about loving humanity and peace on earth
Enlightenment, upliftment, sanity and self-worth

We’ve gotten away from what made us so strong
Disease will take us all away before too long

First our bodies, hearts, minds, souls and so on
Now our music, our life’s soundtrack is next to pass on

Oh well, who knew that some day my music would be worth less than gold
I guess now I can say that Jaramogi Kareem is officially old