Dear Hip Hop

Dear hip-hop, please

Don't you forget about little old me

Oh, I'm just a little O.G

And I done seen the game changed up on me

Way back in my day, when it was all about spitting music was crazy

I fuck with Nas and Master P was my Jay-Z

Jigga was spitting but I couldn't understand it

I knew it was some fly shit, it just never landed

'Til I hit the ninth grade, by that time 50 done step in the game

But I had been bumping that shit from mixtapes

And I got hip to Canibus in like sixth grade

And that crazy motherfucker just took over my brain

It's a little Big L in my raps today

Even though he gone, nah, he ain't gone, you listening to him

Just from reciting the lines you'd think that I knew 'em

Bumping that Redman not giving a fuck about nothing

Imagine if I was getting high, I wasn't even puffing

Hiding the CD from my momma, shit had too much cussing

Baby I ain't gonna leave you for nothing

Can you just write me back, please?

I found the blueprint way before school was my hustle

Beyond a reasonable doubt, I was a nigga with attitude

Illmatic, no reason for me to be mad at you

'Cause life is too short, even when you ready to die

Picture this: a little nigga comin' up in the Chi

Using common sense, give my mind a resurrection

Though I used to love her, never lost my erection

Underground king, po' pimpin' in the muddy waters

It's just me against the world, get rich or die trying

Three feet high and rising

Now I see clear like vising; whoops, I mean Visine

So far gone, plus I wanna be king

Not a college dropout, seen graduation

In my lifetime is just your imagination

For now I'm just a lyricist lounging 'til I reach my salvation

Please

Don't forget

Super Nintendo, Sega Genesis

I was ten years old with the flow I reminisce

They called me White Mike before I became the 6th

Hip-hop showed me love with a hug and a kiss

Used to tape the radio when it was on late

Used to cop mixtapes when they was on tapes

You couldn't pull the wrong record out the wrong crate

Truthfully, it used to seem every song's great

Influenced your walk, fashion and your speaking

Every third weekend, was at the new I was underage so I used to have to sneak in

Student of the game, open-minded for the teaching

I paid dues, yeah, I knew dude's reaching

I give a fuck about the songs y'all leaking

I'm done preaching, sip the Hennessey, burn the incense

Dear hip-hop, yours truly, 6th Sense