Bester amerikanischer HipHop-Text: The Coup - Me and Jesus the Pimp in a '79 Granada last Night
[ Boots ]
Well, he was smilin' like a vulture as he rolled up the horticulture
Ignited it, and said, "I hope the vapors don't insult ya"
What I replied denied, but he mixin weed and hop
His head was noddin' up and down like he agreed a lot
Bored, said, "We need a plot," I comply, "Let's leave the spot"
Hopped in the Granada, he's impressed by the beat I got
His name is "hay-zoos" but his pimp name is "gee-zus"
Slapped a hoe to pieces with his plastic prosthesis
"Nigga don't you know that I'm your daddy?" said he
This is true, plus he schooled me for my mackin' degree
"Never plea, try not to flee, make niggaz pee when you stick around"
This man my momma had found taught me to put it down
I press the gas to the ground to show that I'm a hound
Makin' sure that Europe sound is heard throughout the town
Thirty years ago, Jesus could pull a hoe quick
But now he 50 and his belly hangs lower than his dick
Philosophy that he spit stuck in my memory chips
And now he puttin' in a disk of Gladys Knight and the Pips
Then that shit starts to skip, he said, "Somebody musta scratch it"
Put the 40 to his lips and poured his consience down the hatchet
Well since my adolescence, cause of his pimp lessons
smack my woman in the dental just for askin' silly questions
Relationship reduction to either rock the box or suction
Ain't got no close partners, socially I can't function
From the pen he would scribe, on how to survive:
"Don't be Microsoft, be Macintosh with a hard drive"
Used to tell me all the time to keep a bitch broke
Did I mention that my momma was his number one hoe?
Clunked the 40 on the flo' and placed his palm on the dash
and wheezed out, "C'mon man, make this motherfucker mash!"
Ain't gon' mash too fast, cause my tags ain't right
Me and Jesus the Pimp in a '79 Granada last night
Chorus: *sung* (2X)
Oakland do you wanna ride?
I can't hear you! Oakland do you wanna ride tonight?
[ Boots ]
City lights from far way can make you drop yo' jaw
Sparklin' like sequins on a transvestite at Mardi Gras
There's beauty in the cracks of the cement
When I was five I hopped over them wherever we went to prevent
whatever it was that could break my momma's back
Little did I know that it would roll up in a Cadillac
And matta-fact, she couldn't see him like a cataract
And on the track, she went from beautiful to battleaxe
And back at home, she would cry into her pillow
Vomit in the commode, I was six years old
I would crawl onto her lap and we would hug and hold
Never knew how she was suffering for my food and clothes
She asked me what I thought of Jesus when he broke off some bread
I said, "He missin' a arm, and he seem like a pee-pee head"
She said, "Don't cuss," and my teeth to go brush
And get ready for bed, and the toilet to flush
With tears in Momma's eyes, I was her everything
Before she went out on the stroll
[ Lyrics found at
www.mp3lyrics.org/Fbf ]
She'd tuck me into bed and sing:
You're just too beautiful for words (4X)
I see the red and white lights as the ambulance flies
Reminds me of midnight in a dopefiend's eyes
And my 9-year-old self as paramedics leave
Left to ball my eyes out on a neighbor's sleeve
To give illustrations that are clear and clean
I'll take you two hours back before this scene
Early in the morning when the sun starts to creep
When the birds start to chirp and crackheads go to sleep
Moms was comin' in I heard her keys go clink
Wearin' nothin' but pumps, bikini, and fake mink
Even though she served, for fifty dollars-a-pop
Hardly had enough for rent after Jesus re-copped
That day the landlady got her rent befo' he got his knot
Slammed Momma's head against the front bolt lock
Then the pimp wit' one arm done harm
Reached back and plowed into her head like a farm
Never saw the act, locked in the back, I was cussin'
Heard the blap blap of twenty headcrack percussion
and body blows, her body froze from bolo's to the spine
I was hysterically cryin', all she could do was whine
She didn't even have the strength to say, "I love you Boo"
But I said it to her and she knew that I knew
She was dead by the time the ambulance got on the case
But I never will forget the plastic hand stuck in her face
Stop at the intersection to ask Jesus 'bout directions
"Go to Frisco" (I got very friendly vocal inflections)
Mob a left at MacArthur to continue in flight
Me and Jesus the Pimp in a '79 Granada last night
Chorus
[ Boots ]
The rain dropped giant pearls, God was pissin' on the world
Or that old man who was snorin' rolled on over and earled
My temperature gage read "cold and blistery"
Spinnin' wheels made each piece of asphalt history
This was Jesus debut out the penitentiary
Fifteen years, but it seem like a century
See, he went in the pen for some other murder drama
Twelve years old I wrote him quote I wanna be a pimp comma
You accidentally killed my mom, no playa hation points
You know how bitches act, shit exclamation points
At first it was a set up move, then it was the truth
His letters were the only friend I had as a youth
But his lopsided game, see, was really counterfeit
So my little son Dominic thinks that I'm a dick
Cause I was runnin' 'round like a little baby Jesus
To me women had to be saints, hoes, or skeezers
And I don't think that it's gon' end till we make revolution
But who gon' make the shit if we worship prostitution?
Ain't no women finna die for the same ol' conclusion
Put they life on the line so some other pimp could use 'em
Pulled into a vacant lot, the road to recovery
Pulled out my pistol as we brushed against the shrubbery
Jesus said, "Why the hell you pointin' a gat?"
So I pulled a piece of game I could use out the hat
I said, "This trip is over, we ain't finna ride on
This is for my mental and my momma that I cried on
Microsoft motherfuckers let bygones be bygones
but since I'm Macintosh, I'ma double click your icons"
He struggled for life, then gave up the fight
Me and Jesus the Pimp in a '79 Granada last night
Chorus
[ Boots ]
And I still remember momma
You're much too beautiful for words (4X)
Bester deutscher HipHop-Text: Die Fantastischen Vier - Individuell aber schnell (Blumentopf - Manfred Mustermann ist auch top)
ist euch schon mal aufgefalln was eigentlich so geht
wenn ihr am samstag abend an der glotze rumdreht
was am kiosk an der ecke in der auslage steht
da weiss ich zwar woher der wind aber nicht wohin er weht
da seh ich titten und titten ich seh so viele titten
wenn du denkst das war schon immer so dann hast du dich geschnitten
ich kann mich noch erinnern überhaupt nicht lange her
da gabs noch keine nackten superstars wie prince madonna cher
du brauchst jetzt nicht gleich denken ich sei viel zu verklemmt
denn wer mich näher kennt der weiss ich bin nicht so gehemmt
über alles was ich sage hab ich gründlich nachgedacht
und ich finde mit sex wird viel zu viel skrupellos geld gemacht
denn sex verkauft ne zeitung sex verkauftn video
mit sex verkauft man alles denn sex verkauft sich sowieso
und wenn was nicht gut läuft und ists der größte ******
dann ist mit großer sicherheit der werbeträger heiß
ich mach die augen auf und schau wie ist die lage
da erkenn ich dann das prinzip von angebot und nachfrage
alles was die werbung tut ist zielgruppen abchecken
um dann bei möglichst vielen leuten kaufreiz zu erwecken
die werbung spielt dir vor dass du brauchst was du nicht hast
und wenn du das produkt nicht kaufst dass du was verpasst
ist das produkt ne illustrierte und eigentlich nicht so toll
dann macht man halt das magazin vorn mit titten voll
diese strategie liefert illusionen satt
und beschreibt einen zustand den die realität nicht hat
und zwar die ganze gegend ist voll mit geilen leibern
doch bist du grad nicht angesagt dann kriegste keine leider
dazu musst du schon was leisten nicht so sein wie die meisten
musstn geilen body haben und gewichte reissen
raus aus den klamotten und rein in das solarium
optik ist das hauptkriterium sagt dir dein medium
freizügikeit ist positiv doch eile mit weile
aufklärung statt verklärung ist die eine seite der medaille
ich liebe den konsum und medienvernetzung
doch nach meiner einschätzung führt das auch zur medialen versexung
jetzt stell ich mir mal vor ich wär in der pubertät
es wär noch nicht viel los mit meiner individualität
meine verschärfte umgebung die würde mich entnerven
die normalheit meines körpers vielleicht aus der bahn werfen
vielleicht käm ich auf dumme gedanken weil ich mich hässlich find
weil die leute im musikvideo halt doch die schönsten sind
dann schau ich aufs coupé und seh im kabel fern
und stelle fest hey kopulieren ist modern
dann les ich das zeug an sommer und denk die sind aber schnell
bei Smudo war in diesem alter yps mit gimmick aktuell
da schreibt ein junges mädchen zwölf oder wenig mehr
sie hättn süßen freund und sie will geschlechtsverkehr
wie geht das mit dem höhepunkt sie hat nämlich noch keinen
ja hat sie denn mit zwölf schon locken zwischen ihren beinen
eine andre sie ist vierzehn schreibt ihr freund lässt sie im stich
und sie will wissen ob sie das kind behalten soll oder nicht
das alter bei der nächsten ganz egal jedenfalls
steckt sie nach dem essen immer ihren finger in den hals
das problem das sie hat und das ist doch der witz
sie findet auf der schule keinen wie von den new kids
idealisiere nicht die falschen werte
und mach in einer schwachen phase blo%szlig; nicht das verkehrte
frustriert irritiert drangsaliert strapaziert
weil die meinungsmache das bewusstsein umfunktioniert
sei individuell aber schnell nicht bloss sexuell
potentiell intellektuell reel originell
keine heuchelei prahlerei wichtigtuerei
sei immer gut dabei mit andern worten fühl dich frei
Traurige Songs:
Sinead O'Connor - Nothing compares to you (auch wenn ich das verdammte "mama" im letzten Absatz nicht verstehe?!)
It's been seven hours and fifteen days
Since you took your love away
I go out every night and sleep all day
Since you took your love away
Since you been gone I can do whatever I want
I can see whomever I choose
I can eat my dinner in a fancy restaurant
But nothing ...
I said nothing can take away these blues,
'Cause nothing compares ...
Nothing compares to you
It's been so lonely without you here
Like a bird without a song
Nothing can stop these lonely tears from falling
Tell me baby where did I go wrong?
I could put my arms around every boy I see
But they'd only remind me of you
went to the doctor guess what he told me
Guess what he told me?
He said, girl, you better have fun
No matter what you do
But he's a fool ...
'Cause nothing compares ...
Nothing compares to you ...
All the flowers that you planted, mama
In the back yard
All died when you went away
I know that living with you baby was sometimes hard
But I'm willing to give it another try
'Cause nothing compares ...
Nothing compares to you
Neil Young - Don't let it bring you down
Old man lying by the side of the road
With the lorries rolling by,
Blue moon sinking from the weight of the load
And the building scrape the sky,
Cold wind ripping down the allay at dawn
And the morning paper flies,
Dead man lying by the side of the road
With the daylight in his eyes.
Dont let it bring you down
Its only castles burning,
Find someone whos turning
And you will come around.
Blind man running through the light of the night
With an answer in his hand,
Come on down to the river of sight
And you can really understand,
Red lights flashing through the window in the rain,
Can you hear the sirens moan?
White cane lying in a gutter in the lane,
If youre walking home alone.
Dont let it bring you down
Its only castles burning,
Just find someone whos turning
And you will come around.
Dont let it bring you down
Its only castles burning,
Just find someone whos turning
And you will come around.