Generic Hip Hop Artist

yo, let's learn the alphabet. Whether you're a child or an adult learning English. yo here's how it goes: A is for apple, it’s a red fruit B is for bus that’s electric and mute C is for cat with a cool attitude D is for drum that drops the beat, dude! E is for elephant, big and gray F is for frog that jumps all day G is for guitar, strum that chord H is for house where love is stored I is for igloo cold and white J is for jelly that's sweet and bright K is for kite flying high in the sky L is for lion with a mighty roar cry M is for moon that shines at night N is for ninja moving outta sight O is for octopus, eight-leg glide P is for panda with bamboo pride Q is for queen with a golden crown R is for robot breakin’ it down S is for sun that lights the way T is for train that chugs all day U is for umbrella in the rain V is for volcano — BOOM! — insane! W is for whale swimming in the sea X is for xylophone — play it for me! Y is for yo-yo spinning so fast Z is for zebra, black-and-white class We went A to Z, now you know the score Let’s rap the alphabet — one time more! A-B-C, come rap with me We’re learning letters to a funky beat! A-B-C, from A to Z, Knowledge is power — now you’re free!

Yeah... They say it's for the kids But we see what it is... Eyes open. Mic on. They say, “Show us your face, hand ID at the gate,” Claim it's for kid safety — but that line feels fake. Every click’s now a trace, every meme's now a case, If your joke hits a nerve, you’re erased with no grace. Private firms hold your name, birthdate and your place, Now that’s more than a platform — that’s a digital cage. Can’t laugh at the crown, can't clown the elite, Thought-police with receipts, in your DMs and tweets. They say it’s the kids — “Protect 'em from harm,” But Wi-Fi ain't free, it don’t grow on a farm. You need bills, you need wires, you need names for the net, So how's a kid gonna log on and place that bet? No ID for my mind, no barcode for my soul, I was born free — ain’t lettin’ Big Brother scroll. You want safety? Then fix up the home, Not build firewalls 'round the Google Chrome. Keep your checks, I just wanna be me, Let me joke, let me post, let me speak freely. If your power breaks from a meme, it's fraud, ‘Cause a throne that can’t laugh ain’t a throne, it’s a god. Seen porn as a kid, saw Casino too, But love at the table gave me a better view. Don’t blame the net — blame the structure you built, Where families break under pressure and guilt. Equality's the cure, not a login form, Not tracking IPs in a digital storm. You can ban, you can scan, you can claim you care, But a mask on a wound still leaves it bare. Let parents guide, not governments decide, Don’t hand my info to some corp worldwide. Now we diving in TOR just to dodge your law, And the kids you “protect” see more than before. You tighten control, and the people adapt. Underground grows, while the white net cracks. You can't police trauma with terms of use. You fix the root — or the poison gets loose. Now they gatekeep the web like it’s contraband, Need a license to scroll? That ain’t part of the plan. Only adults can buy it — the broadband line, But now I need ID just to comment online? This ain’t safety, it’s a digital wall, Turnin’ net into prison, surveillance for all. You scare folks off, they'll just log out and bounce, No one gonna tag in when the cost too mounts. This ain’t progress — it’s a silent retreat, Where speech dies slow in a terms-of-use sheet. The web was the voice of the voiceless crowd, Now it’s muted by IDs just to speak out loud. What you kill ain't just memes — it's the net itself, An open world shrunk down and shelved. You say it's safety, but it feels like theft, Of the last free space that the people had left. Anonymity ain’t the threat — it’s the shield. Against those who forget how the truth gets revealed. So before you ID the net like a border, Fix the homes, fix the love, fix the order.

I asked her for a hug, just a little squeeze, She said, "That's harassment, get away from me, please!" Tried to hold her hand, just to feel some grace, She called the cops, said I’m "invading her space." So I sat in my room, full of rage and despair, Wrote down my thoughts—"Would anybody care?" If I scream at the world through a letterbox slot, Would they lock me up? Yeah, probably—a lot. "Can I lick your cunt? I’ll pay you a ton!" Slip it in your mailbox just for fun. The cops kicked my door, said, "This is a crime!" But a loveless world? That’s the real damn slime. They dragged me downtown, read me my rights, "You can’t say that stuff, it gives women frights!" I said, "Officer, please, don’t you see the joke? A society this cold is what makes folks broke." No touch, no love, just swipe left and right, We’re all so lonely but "that’s modern life." So I’ll sit in my cell with my paper and pen, Writing more letters to do it again! "Can I lick your cunt? I’ll pay you a ton!" Slip it in your mailbox just for fun. The cops kicked my door, said, "This is a crime!" But a loveless world? That’s the real damn slime. So here’s my fine, here’s my shame, At least I tried to play the game. But if love’s a crime, then lock me tight— I’d rather be crazy than die of spite. Although I was rude and they said “that’s wrong,” women praise a killer, like he belongs. four thousand letters, they draw hearts in red, To a man who left two angels dead. Although I was rude, maybe too real, Now I'm the weirdo with a court appeal. Meanwhile, Ted Bundy fan clubs thrive, While I’m banned from Tinder just for being alive.

Tracy, I love not just your beauty but the way you're nice to me, You're the one I always want to see. You always ask me if I’m okay, Your laugh is sweet — it brightens up my day. I like cuddling you and holding you close, Of all the people in my world, I love you the most. There’s nothing better than holding your hand, you know how to treat a man Tracy, I think of you when we’re apart, You're always with me, right here in my heart. Your skin is soft like a teddy bear, You're still gorgeous when you’ve got nothing to wear. Tracy, I tell you I love you and you say thank you, It’s a beautiful thing — so real, so true. No need for fancy words or grand romance, Just being with you gives my heart a chance. I like cuddling you and holding you close, Of all the people in my world, I love you the most. There’s nothing better than holding your hand, you know how to treat a man You're the calm when the world’s a storm, The way you love me feels safe and warm. Tracy, with you, I’ve got all I need, You're my wish, my love, my every good deed.

Swipe left, swipe right — it’s a graveyard scroll Every profile pic lookin' like a highlight role But in real life? Cold, distant, dismissive Can’t touch, can’t hug — yo, even talkin’ feels risky Cuddlin'? Nah. Holding hands? You kiddin’ me? Feels like every girl out here’s a hologram visually No kiss, no touch, like a ghost in the flesh If love’s a connection, then society’s deaf What’s intimacy now? Just a crime of suggestion Better lawyer up before you ask a real question And apps? Please — full of bots, scams, or dudes No wonder real men feel confused and used If I can’t hold ya, hug ya, kiss ya or touch ya Then every girl walkin' might as well be another brother If love’s off-limits unless you fit the mold Then all I see around me’s just souls gone cold It’s a rigged game — beauty runs the board But deep down, it's bankrupt, nothin’ to afford Dudes who look right? They eat like kings But it’s shallow as hell — fast highs, no rings And if you broke or average, they ghost in a flash But if you six-pack stacked, they be droppin’ it fast Yet these same girls say they want somethin’ deep But won’t even glance if your teeth ain’t gleamin' or your jeans ain’t elite It’s inequality masked as “standards and taste” But the double-think’s wild — whole scene is misplaced ‘Cause the only ones left for a real one to get Are the ones with a price tag and zero respect They say it’s choice — and yeah, I respect that But choice ain't equal when the field’s this cracked When one side plays while the other just waits It's not love, it's a lottery where most lose fate So I sit with the truth — it’s bitter and rough Good dudes out here, but “good” ain’t enough It’s a show — all facade, all flex, no root But roots build love, and right now it’s been uproot Don’t want a hooker, don’t want a clone Don’t want fast fame, I just want a home But if that’s not real in the game we in Then maybe love’s extinct — R.I.P. to genuine Yo, what kind of world puts a crown on a villain? Dude caught two bodies, now his inbox is spillin’ Four thousand letters from women who swoon While real ones out here gettin’ ghosted by noon He took life — cold blood, no regret in his face Yet they write him poems, call it love, call it fate While good men rot, overlooked, unseen It’s like bein' decent ain't part of the dream The more toxic you act, the more they react Be a savage, be reckless — they keep runnin’ back But hold a door, speak soft? You get labeled a simp It’s like empathy now is a social limp Makes you question what the hell’s goin’ on When chaos gets praised and peace gets withdrawn We in love with destruction, addicted to pain Romanticizin' monsters while real hearts strain

Yo, yo, yo, Gather ‘round, I got a TED Talk in rap form, Alfie Kohn in my earbuds, facts in swarm. You like competition? Man, that’s so last year, Let me break it down in a way immature and clear. Yo, competition is gay — and not in a slur, I mean literally dudes sweatin’ on each other in a blur. Like, “Bro let’s wrestle,” half-naked on the mat, “Winner gets a trophy,” loser gets… trauma and a back-pat. You call that “healthy”? I call it repressed, Chasin' ego points while you're all gettin' stressed. "Teamwork makes the dream work" — nah, they lied, It's “beat your own friends, crush ‘em with pride.” No contest, bro, this game is whack, Y’all playin’ dodgeball with a panic attack. Boss says hustle, coach says fight — Y’all just flexin’ trauma in a jockstrap, right? No contest, man, take a seat, What’s fun ‘bout losin’ and feelin’ defeat? I read Kohn and my brain went “whoa,” Now I laugh at games like tic-tac-no. Office vibes? It’s a Hunger Game, Karen snitchin’ on Linda just to get acclaim. Promotions ain’t earned, it’s a death-match maze, Just capitalism cosplay in business slays. And don’t get me started on those alpha dudes, Bench pressin’ their worth while ignoring their moods. They say “be a winner,” I say “why tho?” Life ain’t a ladder, it’s more like… a low blow. You ever seen a dolphin play Monopoly? Nah, Cuz nature ain’t toxic, it just chill with the spa. But humans be like: “I must win chess!” Bruh, it’s just cardboard, sit down and rest. No contest, bro, this mess is deep, Y’all grind till burnout, then cry in your sleep. Game on? Nah man, game’s outdated, Whole culture’s built like it’s insecure and gated. No contest, man, flip the script, Tell your coach he can keep that leadership tip. I’ll play for fun, you play to slay, But deep down inside, y’all just gaaaaaayyy. Yeah, I said it — satirical spit, Don’t twist my words, I’m clownin’ the pit. Competition’s broken, rigged, and insane, Let’s all take a nap and share the same brain. Peace to Kohn, and peace to play, Life ain’t a war, it’s just another day. So next time someone says “win or die,” Just laugh and say “Bro… why?”

Big Brother ain't a dude, she's wearin' heels now Eyes in every thread, every click, every sound Say somethin' slick? It’s already been found She read your mind before the words left your mouth Winston whispered — I know the feel, bro Doublethinkin' every line, gotta keep it low Can't joke, can't vent, can’t even let it show Airstrip One’s a TikTok scroll Thoughtcrime — yeah, they know what you think Speak foul on queens, get canceled in a blink Ain’t no diary safe, ain’t no privacy link She the Thought Police — and she runnin' this thing Goldstein lookin’ soft next to her wrath You diss once, she rewinds your whole past Screenshots live forever, no escape hatch Even Newspeak can’t dodge the backlash Room 101? Nah, it's a group chat Call-out posts with your quote in caps She don’t need rats, just facts and receipts You hit “send,” now you're six feet deep Thoughtcrime — yeah, they know what you think Speak foul on queens, get canceled in a blink Ain’t no diary safe, ain’t no privacy link She the Thought Police — and she runnin' this thing It's not hate — it's the fear to critique Say “calm down,” now you labeled as weak No debate, just the echo repeat You the villain if you dare to speak Orwell warned us, but we laughed at the text Now she’s watchin’ like a drone on your ex Respect's real — but control’s a hex You ain’t free if you scared to flex They say the diary’s where a man can speak free, But she got sensors in the margins, reading what you think secretly. Step outta line with a stray diss? Too late, She got drones in your notes like a surveillance state. "You wrote WHAT about me?"—now the room gettin’ colder, Thought Crime alert, she just tapped your shoulder. No un-good words, no wrong opinions, Even in your mind, she’s sending her minions. Private page? Nah, that’s public record, She’s the Ministry of Love, but the love got wrecked, bruh. Doublethink hard—"You’re loyal, right?" Meanwhile, she’s scanning every line you write. (Thought Police in a dress, yeah she monitoring speech, Write it down in the book, she still calling the heat. Private words ain’t private, better watch how you talk, Even ink in the shadows get erased with the chalk.) 1984 but the telescreen’s her eyes, Miss Big Sister clocking every word you disguise. You thought "just a joke," but the humor’s revoked, Now you’re Room 101-bound getting "re-educated," folks. She got the receipts from pages you burned, Memory holed? Nah, the lesson’s been learned. Freedom’s an illusion when she’s auditing thoughts, Even whispers in cipher get decoded and caught. So keep your pen silent or face the correction, One wrong line and you lose her affection. Big Brother’s harsh, but she’s harsher, believe— The Thought Police? Yeah, she’s taking your leave.

The flowers stopped blooming, the colors turned grey The laughter went silent and faded away No mothers, no sisters, no lovers remain Just echoes of footsteps drowned out by the rain The streets are all quiet, the mirrors don’t lie There’s no warmth in the sunrise, just cold in the sky They carried the balance, the song and the soul Now time ticks in ruins, a half of us stole All of the women in society are fucking dead forever there will never be another woman never The world feels so hollow, like a house made of bone Since all of the women left me alone No comfort, no wisdom, no hands left to hold No hearts full of mercy to soften the cold We built up our towers, we tore down the trees But forgot that love was the breath in the breeze I search through the silence, I beg to the air For just one more voice, for someone to care But statues don’t answer and memories fade And none of this gold can undo what we’ve made All of the women in society are fucking dead forever there will never be another woman never The world feels so hollow, like a house made of bone Since all of the women left me alone The streets don’t smell like perfume anymore, Just gasoline and rust on the drugstore door. The female mannequins stare with their hollow eyes, Like they’re waiting for someone who won’t arrive. The jukebox still plays our old wedding song, But the melody’s broken, the words all wrong. I pour out two drinks, but I drink them alone, Toast to the ghosts in this silent home. All of the women in society are fucking dead forever there will never be another woman never The world feels so hollow, like a house made of bone Since all of the women left me alone The preacher still shouts from his pulpit of dust, About Eve and the apple and God’s broken trust. But the pews are all empty, the bibles are shut, ‘Cause you can’t damn a soul when there’s no one left to judge. I heard a child laugh in a dream last night, But the crib’s been still, that ain't right The future’s a museum with no one to see, Just statues of mothers that used to be. All of the women in society are fucking dead forever there will never be another woman never The world feels so hollow, like a house made of bone Since all of the women left me alone They’ll dig up our bones in a thousand years, Wonder why all the women just disappeared. But the wind won’t answer, the sky won’t cry, It’s just men and the dust, waiting to die.

Yo... Let’s rewind real quick, Before the brands, before the buzzwords, Back when cipher sessions meant survival. Raw tape decks and broken streetlamps... This is where it really started. Class is in. When the mic-fiends came to earn the name And to spit flames, some crashed On pills and pride, tried to ride the fame Before the stage lights shined Now minds rise off inner planes, to spark the flame From the ashes, we design Yo, Mentor — cut that beat with precision lines Frauds fold in live sets, I dissect with lines Knock jokers off decks like they slept through time I’m sharp like a crime scene — not chalk, but red Like a needle to the nerve when the pain gets fed You had a chance to drop jewels, but you bit the mold Caught a bruised ego from playing roles too bold I stack weight in bars, not plates in gyms They flex likes, I press truths on a whim Minimal effort, they sandals in snow While I gamble verses where only gamblers go You feel the pulse when I split the deck It’s roundhouse syntax, snap your neck My flows hit airwaves like rogue typhoons I clock in dusk, clock out past noon No filler — I ink with intent Drop heavy lines that collapse cement Thoughts rush like currents, unfiltered speed Carried in clouds of loud and lifted seeds Only drop fire when my focus align Turn it up — whole squad on that frontline grind When the mic-fiends came to earn the name And to spit flames, some crashed On pills and pride, tried to ride the fame Before the stage lights shined Now minds rise off inner planes, to spark the flame From the ashes, we design Yo, Mentor — cut that beat with precision lines Mission's labeled mythical — still, I pursue Swing pens like blades that slice right through I’m the silence-breaker, the chest plate shatterer Street professor with a mind like Excalibur Their style’s faded — like thrift-store heat While I burn beats through tin-can speakers Never pull up to my set on the sneak Your scheme short-circuits like wet concrete What’s the reason? I'm lawless with cause Judge and jury when I bang these bars Jot verdicts with a pad so criminal They can't trace it — the syntax subliminal Slipped in solo, dipped with no sound Low-key like sirens in underground towns Yo — ride with me to the code-bound zone Where the booth feels like a war-time drone Narrow entry, wide exit of thought Bars so dense, they vibrate in chalk Curious minds get caught in the wave Get marked by the mark that legends engrave When the mic-fiends came to earn the name And to spit flames, some crashed On pills and pride, tried to ride the fame Before the stage lights shined Now minds rise off inner planes, to spark the flame From the ashes, we design Yo, Mentor — slice that track with the finish line