H.N.I.C. (Hip Hop Needs Immense Change)

Intro
(I break bread, ribs, hundred dollar bills yeah...)

While you was watchin' Netflix and chillin'
I was on my grind, hit the next lick delivered
I was freeing minds tryin to exit the prison
You were always lying about your necklace and chicken
Now you rappers all singin' and you trappers all rappin'
And you sing about trappin', now you rappers all acting
And you claiming gettin' money but you losin' all the passion
If the money really talk, a lot of niggas need captions!
OJ gloves on with Trayvon hoodie
Cops fear black men, this made y'all bullies
Mike Brown flip-flops and Amadou wallet
Resurrect true knowledge, tell my niggas shoot hollows (BANG!)
I'm focused like Will Smith and the white chick
Even on my nightshift I was writing that right shit
I was writing that life shit, niggas beaten with nightsticks
Wanna talk about ISIS? Nigga we in a crisis!
Only pray when the dice lift, only pray when the dice roll
Keep the heat on my waist line, all of my niggas ice cold...
And thorough nigga!

I keep it, I keep it, I keep it, I keep it...

We just act gawdy, we don't act godly
I don't act hardly, double back with the black shotty
In the black Audi with the Mac probably
Hit your back shorty if you act naughty
All this new rap bore me!
A mean spitter to you lean sippers
Niggas gettin' stuck like a jeans zipper
We celebrate Columbus but we hate Hitler
'America the Great' what a fake picture
I thought I'd get a deal out of college
Trinidad James got a mil' before I did
Cuz they don't want a nigga spittin' knowledge
And they lyin' when they told you slavery was abolished
Take them chains off and made 'em gold polished
Switched the master's whip to a new Impala
So instead of gettin killed by the whip, you getting killed in the whip, and you won't see tomorrow
Black men hate black skin
Kill black friends backspin to a black sin
Back when white lose black win, black lose white win
I choose state pen, love lose, hate win
Hate win, love lose, my hues, my skin
My shoes, my Timbs, my dues, my kin
I lose my friends, I choose my end, my scent
My skin my sin my blessing, need a resurrection
Kill off the niggas then we raise 'em to perfection
Tell em black men that them kids need protection
(Keep it thoro!) Now that's thorough!

Quadir Lateef!