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brandon e. williams - can you explain this? كلمات الأغنية

can i get a little real hip hop, can we get a little real hip hop
please don’t stop, real hip hop (hip hop!)
can you explain this? how rap is going through so many changes
from poetry to openly talking bout who’s the lamest
and see what’s strange is the advantage is coming of age
the young’ens acting heinous, labeling you as haters
(you talking all this trash but homie i am the greatest
remember i said it you’re gonna regret it once i’m famous)
hah! man, shut up you ignoramus
courageously shameless walking around talking outta your -n-s
your grip on real hip hop is anything but tenacious
(oh yeah you talking ’bout swag?)
no homie not in the faintest
sense of being brainless, forgive me for my vagueness
my god, give me your ipod, keep this song on your playlist
they say that heaven’s gracious
you see familiar faces
they meet you at the gates of fate with open arms and praises
it’s crazy, i see the same here on earth
the beloved moments be covered(?) in a newborn’s birth
but not for death ’cause we favor it less
mama mia, the idea with fear can oppress i confess
but see that stems from the fear of unknown
we only know what we’re shown, we go in alone
b-b-b-bad to the the bone
so we created something unknown
that we can love and place it above
believers reprieve, join the club
and so we place the devil below ’cause that’s where we go
when we’re forced to say the opposite of h-llo, so, so
as i chill on this beat, beat
brain activity currently at its peak
i see exactly what they don’t want me to see
that religion is a division of weak(?)
so, follow the leader
yeah, i promise i’ll lead you
to eden for those eager believers, leave it to beaver(?)
this is for those daily tweeters who tweet ’till they have a seizure
nearly meet the reaper
leave and then follow the same procedure
i’ll free you, from that wannabe gangster life
yeah we all know the type, (?) smoking weed out of pipes
the bamboo with the crew, random corners with city lights
they post up pictures on facebook to legitimize their nights, nice
nah, you just don’t get it
that life wouldn’t be cool even if it wasn’t synthetic
the streets will put you to sleep like you’re under an anesthetic
’cause you claim to carry arms but what you got is prosthetics, pathetic
nah, you just don’t get it
man, they just don’t get it

(hook)
your gangsters cosmetic
i put it in this rhyme ’cause i hear it all the time
like my people from the hood, stay on your grind
nah, they just don’t get it
your gangsters cosmetic
can i get a little real hip hop, can we get a little real hip hop

see, i want to spit knowledge half of the time
but half of the time only rhyme with merely half of my mind
but only spit it through the voice of a mime
through my movements it’s hard to define
either way it’s a waste of time but
if the point of hip hop’s to get gwops, spit hot, get a wrist watch
fresher than a zip lock
i’d rather be a broke -ss writer and sketch a sick plot
and like(?) the top of the food chain is a clock
hear it tick tock, tick tock, tick tock
soon the minutes slip
minutes turn to hours tryin’ to devour the infinite
but let me know if you’re into it
feed you spittle with little wits
and you bite the hand that feeds off of kibble bits
pending: imminent imprisonment of the insolent
militant, where you’re found guilty ’till proven innocent
and you contain the beast using a musical implement
good thing i’m articulate, using words as my instrument
huh, yeah using words as my instrument
good thing i’m articulate using words as my instrument
forever intricate, feeling omnipotent
like the universe this verse could have been infinite
now clap your hands if you love hip hop and
snap your fingers if you love hip hop and
i know everybody here loves hip hop
that’s why with these lyrics i never ever stop
real n-gga w-ssup?

- brandon e williams

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