Dear Rappers

Tom MacDonald

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    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 bein' famous and wealthy
    I'm 28 and still prayin' 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 a boom-box and sit up on my desk
    Listen to your music 'til I felt it in my chest, but
    These days it's like you don't have nothin' left
    Your music feels kinda like you're tryna write a check
    Everything is digital, I mean no disrespect
    But I'm payin' even more, a
    Nd 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 ho

    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 (yo)
    Just a drug addict on TV

    I can't hear another fuckin' song about abusin' 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
    Rappers just a marketing vehicle for the product
    That the man wants you to buy
    Rap about a full clip
    Rappers just promotin' different liquors
    And varieties of ways that you could die, yeah
    Dear rappers, can you help me?
    Are you almost out of alcohol to sell me? Tell me
    'Cause drinkin' every night can't be the way to gettin' wealthy
    If I'm really bein' honest all this shit is overwhelmin'
    I need someone to look up to
    You're livin' in a country that elected Donald Trump
    You're livin' in a country
    Where police are killin' 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

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    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 teachin' me to live like I know you never would
    What you're preachin' to these kids is keepin' 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, yeah

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