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Non-Prophets
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That Ain't Right
While emcees were burning ism
I earned degrees in journalism
Learning the system and about
How freedom of speech is worth killing for
But watch what you say in all those interviews
You're in limbo? Well, we're in limbo too
Contact the dead to get advice from Anne Landers
Transmit personal problems like head lice in bandanas
The big man on campus has delusions of grandure
Doing a thesis on ebonics
Unconsciously using poor grammar
Your mannerisms are suitable to cancer victims
How much opposition does it take for your stance or position
To dance to this rhythm?
(you're jignorant, baby)
Dance to this rhythm
(Go ahead, baby)
Ah, forget it. It's actually accepted
For rappers to have no ethics
Their albums would benefit if they put in half the effort
I attended candle light vigils for Matthew Sheppard
While you put out another fuck you, fagot record
That ain't right
I blame my hate mail on typographical errors
Correct the misspellings and then send out
Thank you notes for the love letters
Accept rejection when I get a return to sender
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Reject acceptance when the girl's got an agenda
I've entered this brave new world of true cowards
Talkin' 'bout, 'No one goes to shows no more
They're too crowded', so they stay home and burn shit
Then they say, 'I downloaded your life off the net
Totally worth it'
It's 2003, time to stop acting like assholes
It ain't about backpackers or cash flow
Fashionable afros, salon style dreads or frat clothes
And it ain't about these fuckin' loud mouths shoutin', 'Battle'
African medallions didn't sell platinum albums
That's part of the reason why you think hiphop died
It was here before you were. It'll be here in the future
Life's not a bitch, she's just sick of being personified
That ain't right
This household is filled with the half-deads
They've got a mouthful of pills because they're crack heads
They shout that I'm ill but they're doubtful of skill
With the type of stabbing that turns my back red
I don't blast lead, I write until my pen explodes
All over fashion dreds and your Echo clothes
I don't listen when they say
'Shit ain't ever gonna change'
And they say I ain't got no soul
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