(blog as published in On My Post: Recollections of a Social Media Maverick: VOLUME II available NOW on Amazon!)
With death lying dormant beneath the surface of Hip-Hop, is there any hope in sight for the victims that lay in the aftermath of its wake? The answer (for Hip-Hop artists, at least) would appear to be, “Yes.” Immortalized by lyrics that stereotypically glorify death, we all but deify our cultural martyrs. And while respect is due for the talents of the dearly departed, can it go too far?
Perhaps in an attempt to ease our grief, somewhere along the line we’ve rationalized that the tragic living conditions depicted by the likes of Biggie and Pac have somehow granted them a free pass into heaven. In doing so, while we’ve managed to honor their memories, we simultaneously disregard and downplay the only hope of a heavenly afterlife.
But wait! Before you stone me for daring to suggest that those we’ve lost didn’t make it to heaven or being so bold as to talk about religion in Hip-Hop, ask yourself this: how religious or ritualistic has Hip-Hop become? Is it not a movement that empowers the downtrodden – seen as a savior for the lives of those that cross over into its success? Is it not studied by zealots as a religious temple and revered as a platform to speak and act against social class imbalances and injustice; just as the black Church was the center of the civil rights movement back in the 50’s and 60’s?
Even with these similarities, we mustn’t confuse ourselves by entertaining the soulful preservation of those who’ve been lost in the sauce or martyred for the cause. Let’s not forget the history of violence that’s been in the world before Hip-Hop and will remain forever after; and in doing so, let us not forget that its unfounded association to our musical culture doesn’t merit God’s acceptance of those who’ve suffered because of it. For the heroes of Hip-Hop, heaven’s gates open the same way as it does for us: through salvation offered by the Son of God. Otherwise, we’re all walking around with wool over our eyes in an attempt to absorb the tears we’ve shed for our fallen.
(poem as published in Steel Waters: VOLUME I: DUPLicate AuthentICITY available NOW on Amazon!)
If Hip-Hop had a heaven,
Would B.I.G. and Pac be referenced as reverends?
Would their legacies remain reverenced
as legends to their congregations?
Would they have pick–pocketed collections?
Would they have picketed their own marketed message?…
Would we flip flop between bested hymns
in fierce conflagration?!!
If Hip-Hop had a heaven,
Wouldn’t hell await its improper executives –
You know, the ones who pimp and slaughter
invested gifts for money and greed?
When slim profits from padded negligence
Hit the big pockets of devil’s advocates who
stash what’s left of it
Would he who hits the block to grab the rest of it
receive a sudden reprieve?
If Hip-Hop let thugs in heaven,
Would Kristoff St. John open the gates for
its young and restless? –
Would gun possession be exorcised and extradited?
Would pitchin’ rocks from drug professions
Be forgotten since this option was left
from smug oppression?…
Since the government let it in –
would they set the chips aside to tithe it?!!
If Hip-Hop had layovers in heaven,
Would “Jay Hova” be a less unpleasant ref’rence?
Would Holy Hip-Hop be more prevalent in modern day rap?
Would a collar on Run seem as irreverent?
Could self–martyrdom from Nas’ gun
have been more effective?…
What if Jay never left it – could rap be saved
if he simply faded to black?
Would there be a difference between “god” and “dun?”
What about Nastradamus’ depiction as God’s son?!!
Was it all in fun – or was this part of a grander scheme?
As outlandish as this may seem to folks,
I’ve seen patterns of a meaner joke
In something we promote in homage to gangsta leans.
If Hip-Hop outpoured like Hennessy
hovered in heaven,
Would a disc jock’s spin be complete
like the number seven?
Would rims on cars spin with the leverage of Jewish dreidels?
If spin doctors were given prim def’rence
Strictly off our tendencies to drip a bev’rage…
Would that become an instant blessing
for dead artists on foolish labels?
Though rap today has a few número unos,
The price they pay plays to the tune of funerals.
Eulogy beats are the usual for their deadwood dogma.
To gain green funds in large profits,
The mainstream floods in false prophets…
Spreading gangrene in uncut doctrine –
deposited in coffins of embellished hood mantras.
But what if Hip-Hop echoed heaven on earth?
Would New Jerus’ peruse ghetto havens first?
Could it save and reverse its romanticized condition?
Would it release the populace or keep it enslaved
With the greed of coppin’ chips, cheese, and chains?…
Or is it too ashamed for how far
we’ve franchised our position?
With heaven’s common grounds on our premises,
Would we continue to walk around as
our most powerful nemesis?
If we could break out of the syndicate,
would its synthesis surely break down?
Would rap keep recruitin’ legions of shootin’ demons?
If so, would it be so bad that it harbors a slew of heathens?!!…
Would Jews still lead in recoupin’ green ends
with the Pearly Gates around?
If Hip-Hop had heaven harnessed for a new season,
Would Common Be the constant gardener of New Eden?
Such honest guardians are few and far
in between my brothers’ keep.
After all, at The Roots of our Black Stars’ depths,
Too few truly acknowledge their talents’ charged debt …
Despite immaculate concepts, they
challenge God with plundering feats.
Too busy in hell’s kitchen bakin’ up fake stunts to bail out,
Hip–Hop’s been placed on a hellmouth.
Even if heaven replaced it, Ma$e would still be
a sellout, to say the least.
Without unleaded gas to fuel its head of steam,
Would rap exhume its unleavened recipe?…
Or is it too consumed by the commune
of an un–heavenly destiny of wasted yeast?
Will Hip-Hop’s soul ever rise to the occasion again –
where were you the day it died?
Is it too early to mourn – at its wake will we Rize?
Or will it be too late to realize as we writhe
in the pain of its loss?
Since its soul’s been sold to the devil’s embezzled team,
Would Hip–Hop even make it to heaven’s mezzanine?!!…
Will we wake from the hellish scene
of this unsettled dream to take up its cross?
If heaven was a mile away and
Hip-Hop a close shaven second,
Which one would host the most of our jaded brethren?
Would Ghostface be a reverend to cajole
the Supreme Being’s clientele?
Would the Three 6 Mafia be revealed as the mark of the beast
Or merely a market of street beats?…
Would we finally take off its leash? – only time will tell.
If cops sprayed the booth with Eminem in it,
Since he made it in Hip-Hop, could he pay
Proof an eminent visit –
Or were his sentiments too vivid for
the annals of Hip-Hop’s preserved?
Would cats get placed in purgatory
For the graphic way they word a story
Even if it cracked the pavement and earned
them glory on Hip-Hop’s curve?
If Hip-Hop had a mansion in heaven
Can you imagine who would staff its residence?
Big, Pac and Scott La Rock would jam
its expansive measurements with a host of others.
It’d be agreed that certain sistas thought
of as passionate and heaven sent
Would have fixed spots like stanchions of benevolence…
As Lisa and Aaliyah would have an outstanding
presence sensed like the ghosts of southerners.
From A to Z, martyrs for the cause who lay perished
Are amazingly fostered to belong to the same parish –
Cats like Eazy-E and Freaky Tah remain
cherished like stained wood.
From Jam Master J Dilla to Big L’s insane Puns,
From Marley to a modern day marvel slain as Gaye’s son…
If their music could save one –
would these artists merit sainthood?
Tantalized as injured mourners,
We’ve canonized these performers.
We fantasize them reserved for the Lord since
their lives weren’t crystal stairs.
Yet behind random lines lies a bigger picture.
Every time we glamorize lives, we scandalize
the grand design of Christian vigor…
Without standardizing Christ as their risen center –
their lives are wisps of air.
Though they live on in lyrical chapters,
They’re eternally scorned from a spiritual fracture.
Without Christ, their hereafter’s trapped in ethereal infernos.
Like blasphemy against God,
No Christ in an absentee’s heart
Is like battling against Nas – as their souls forever burn slow.
But if they knew Christ as their personal Savior,
No amount of ice could give them more versatile savor.
Despite terminal vapors – they can breathe
new heir with new nostrils!
Despite the hearse and a few favors,
Despite the nicest words rehearsed from eulogy prayers…
No verse renews greater than sharing
the Good News of the Gospel!
