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Best Hip Hop Poems

Below are the all-time best Hip Hop poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of hip hop poems written by PoetrySoup members

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last days of hip hop by Duffy, Alex
Hip Hop lost its art by Duffy, Alex
For the love of Hip Hop by Duffy, Alex
I miss hip hop by Duffy, Alex
hip hop raised me by Duffy, Alex
HIP HOP AND HOMEBOYS by curtis futch jr, kurtis scott aka
HIP HOP IS IN by curtis futch jr, kurtis scott aka
hip hop won't die by Schropp, Jason
Letter To Hip Hop Cabinet Members by Ngomane, Raymond
HIP HOP IS IN by curtis futch jr, kurtis scott aka

View all new Hip Hop Poems

The Best Hip Hop Poems

Details | Hip Hop Poem | |

Hip Hop

Hip hop is more than your understanding of culture
Its not your educated last in the middle of all crowded thighs
Hip hop starts in the heart of love to find its way to the centre of your ears 
Fears mix wordy tears in group hugging moments 
Refining spears

It’s a movement with no legs moving emotional heads
Walking dreams recurring all faulty streams 
Browsing voices not chances 
It’s a movement with no legs moving dreams 

This motionless movement move souls from distant opinions 
Rated the most hated social responsive act
Hip hop pops the middle of an issue with no tissue 
Its not a battle but it battles to make sence of its battles
Raising fists on air waves paving wordy roads 
Written in future tense 

It does what it must with no musters degree
The heat of rhythms to all predicted stormy seasons 
Unbelievable but few truly view why hip hop pops issues with no tissue 
Very few flew 
Over the clouds of good hip hop music deep kissing issues 

Hip hop is more than your understanding of culture
Its not your educated last in the middle of all crowded thighs
Unbelievable but few truly view why hip hop pops issues with no tissue
But that’s my understanding from crocodiles that had standing ovations 
Attacked by microphone visits

Microphone visits
Microphone visits
Microphone visits

(c) Raymond Ngomane

Copyright © Raymond Ngomane | Year Posted 2015

Details | Hip Hop Poem | |

Before and After

Bust to the extreme 
And collide with your foes 
Be ruthless and heartless
When smash on them hoes 
Leave no stone unturned 
When your searching for a "snatch"
Always be ready 
To smash that ass 
Cause they sneaky as **** 
Waiting patiently for you to slip 
Or get down on your luck 
Then you looked surprised 
When your ass gets stuck
Like how could this happen 
How could this be 
They said they would have my back
Always and tomorrow
Are two in the same 
Cause when you wake up tomorrow 
Its today 
And always is cool 
Till it comes time for change 
And that's all I'm gonna say 
You seek fortune 
And you seek fame 
Then your a prime target
For them bogus lames 
And trifling dames 
That try to get at you in the beginning
So they can snatch your change 
When you do make a name 
Its all the same 
Every mother****ing day 
But u *****es ain't slick 
Cause you all look fake 
Like a ***** with teary eyes 
You know she got raped 
And took against her will 
Just cause some ***** ass punk 
Needed a thrill 
Well meet your maker 
I got a deal 
Cause sent down in my presence 
And your soul will get drilled 
Chilled and chopped up 
And diced up into a meal 
For the dogs to eat
Now am I keeping it real 
Or just real ill 
My fates already been sealed 
You silly bastard 
I'm on the chopping block 
And all you hear is my laughter 
Before and after 
The rapture

Copyright © Justin Waddle | Year Posted 2013

Details | Hip Hop Poem | |

My Micke boys

                To be called ..
            ~   Grandma is a Honor ~

        I have been blessed with 4  Grandchildren

       ~ one lays in Heaven " Kaleb "  He is God's Angel ~
   ~ His twin brother he will always watch over , and be in his soul~

     For he loved his Brother so much in the womb ,
       he chose Heaven which gave life to his twin
      ~ I feel his spirit when I see the other Grandson ~
              Time passed another gift to see
               we are " Mickes" and Loved 
            Our Dad held the title in Baseball 
                   ~  that's how we roll ~
           those children are Grandmas hero's 

       The Irish they love big and Family is everything 
        The brothers will protect the beautiful sister 
              ~ as many lads will be calling ~

        Every time my Grandson hits a home run
     There will be a Angel watching proudly in the stand 

       It will be as if the Angel lifted him when he runs 
           ~no one runs faster then my Grandson~
     either baseball or Art  ~ you shall find your gift given

                These children have been blessed~
                 ~  a beauty to hard to describe 
        If you think not ~~  Take a look at the Mom  
                     That girl can stop Traffic   
                    after raising three and still~ 

          "Inspired by the gift and loss of Grandchildren "

     May our precious " Kaleb " softly rest where Angels only Dwell

Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013

Details | Hip Hop Poem | |

Shawty Got Swag

$hawty Got $wag
Shawty got swag, Shawty mad dope. Face all cheesin’, She real turned up. Goin’ to da club, She steppin' wit her peeps, Lookin’ so ratchet, She’s straight up hoochie.
No racks in her pocket, No stacks in her wallet, But she all into bubbly Slurpin’ and burpin’. Lookin for a big baller, Who’ll give her wat she wants, Wildin’ on the dance floor, Tweakin’ an’ freakin’, Shawty actin' so cra cra! She just like da rest a dem, But Shawty real fly, Sure likes a lotta ice, Bling bling, and Benjamins.
Shawty creepin’ to hook up Coz she needs a boo wit finesse, Who’ll give her Yves St. Laurent, 5-star hotels, and 5-star restaurants. Shawty off the chain, Shawty off the hook, She got game and she’s aight! Shawty da bomb - fuh real!!!
Entered in contest “Ebonics – Let’s Do Some Slang" sponsored by Verlena S. Walker (8-18-2014). Some Terms and Definitions: shawty – a young attractive female; dope – cool, nice, awesome; swag – style; turn up – excited; mad – really a lot; peeps – friends, close pals; baller – a thug that made it in the big time; racks/stacks– lots of money; aight – alright; wildin’– to go crazy, acting out of control; cra cra – crazy; tweakin’/freakin’ – dancing provocatively and moving around out of control; cheesin’ – smiling; finesse – man who has swag and can spend a huge amount of money; ratchet – ghetto diva; creepin’ – sneaking about; bubbly – champagne; bling bling – expensive flashy jewelry; Benjamins – hundred dollar bills; boo – one’s lover; da bomb – the best of the best; game – skills; ice – expensive flashy jewelry usually diamonds or jewelry with diamonds; off the chain/off the hook – excellent, fantastic, awesome; fly – cool, in style; hook up – getting together with someone romantically; hoochie – a female who dresses trashy; straight up – absolutely, really.

Copyright © Pandita Sanchez | Year Posted 2014

Details | Hip Hop Poem | |

Dig it baby

You think this is a joke, I ain't playin'
Listen to these words, get what I'm sayin'
It's a fast life livin' in the in between
Makin' it rain, bein' the poetry queen.
Detroit is still in my blood, a'ght
I'll stick with it when I gotta fight.
I'd rather spin these words with flava
Here's some spice baby, ya gotta savor.

Poetry is mixing the grammar of the world
Twistin' the races, pleasin' faces words curled.
Creating like a spins in the wind, its demanding
Life's becoming one with love and understanding.

With a fresh beat bodies get groovy baby
You dig this, cuz I dig you like crazy.
Oh ya you gotta feel somethin' when I control.
Look at the stars in the sky I just stole.
In your eyes now babe they've gotta shine.
One world, a million hearts, feelin' so fine.
No need to be talkin' **it, just give some love
And thank the world and the God above.

Poetry is mixing the grammar of the world
Twistin' the races, pleasin' faces words curled.
Creating like a spins in the wind, its demanding
Life's becoming one with love and understanding.

So ya get it now, see why I'm always geeked,
Hatin' is for the society that is weeked.
Love, and words thats what I am playin'
Dig it baby, that's what I am sayin'

For Contest: Ebonics
Sponsor: Verlena Walker
Date: 07-25-2014

Copyright © Casarah Nance | Year Posted 2014

Details | Hip Hop Poem | |

Kartoon Knuckles

Draped and locked like a curtain in Guantanamo
I use my words to peel scalps like Geronimo
Just like a teen girl my mouth has a heavy flow
If arousal luminesces then I'll make you glow

They're calling me a villain cuz I steal girls like Bowser
Wowzer, think I just filled my trousers
Though unlike the lizard I don't lose them to Italians
Cuz after one night girls confuse me for a stallion

Heart of obsidian inlaid with gold
A tongue of adamantium that stays so cold
My life is a story that's never been told
And I'm hoping that the credits roll before I get old

Copyright © Stefan Hillyman | Year Posted 2013

Details | Hip Hop Poem | |

The Fork in the Road

I can give a chick an option
And she'll pick the other path
Just to divide herself 
Like she out here doing math
Calculating all the ways things can go bad
She don't understand happiness
Cause she's used to being sad
I grab her by the hand
And slightly stroke her on the face
Tell her I want to be her man
But to this touch, she can't relate
She stuck in the past
But we've all made mistakes
She think all I want is ass
But I'll work hard for 1st base
Just to round 2nd 
After days of going on dates
I want to slide home
But for her, I have to wait
I'm ol skool baby
I do things a different way
Been retired my jersey
I ain't got no time for games
I love a good challenge
So I play to win
I'm trying to be your future
So my time, I present
Your beauty is a present
Let me bask your presence
I want you to be my woman
So let me be your man

Copyright © Dee Hill | Year Posted 2014

Details | Hip Hop Poem | |

I Was Wrong

Was I
To push love
So un-returned
At first though the love from you came later
I lost mine, rapt in imagination
So time forgot
Our passion

Copyright © cecil hickman | Year Posted 2013

Details | Hip Hop Poem | |

Starry Eyed

In my hand an empty pack of camel crushes... I smoked them all. 
All the pacing from the stress has beat the pavement raw.
Anger from the moments of my son I never saw.
I'm so gone.
Because I've been holding it in for way too long.
And hashtag to my haters,I will spray you all away if you try to stop me from getting my hustle on.
And I'm not Kirsten Dunst but suckas bring it on.
I'm praying that the whole world pays attention to this song.
See snow the product did it first, but see this best it spoke to me.
And said "you could write a story on how rough your life could be. 
And with every verse you spit, more haters get frikazied.
That's when motivation kicked in and I began to believe.
I'll show the population that my ryhmes are mega rad.
And show the child courts I can be a good dad. 
And make for certain that I get to make my baby mama mad.
Because every brother out of Gary really ain't bad.
Determined dad.

Copyright © Julian Miles | Year Posted 2015

Details | Hip Hop Poem | |


I thought of one of my nephews before I wrote this, God bless him please

He's from a western land where the hustla's real,
And the thugs'll steal,
Brothers'll kill for the love o' bills,
Tryin' to get a mill[million],
Means much blood'll spill

So his forte's to scheme & die fo',
Gettin'that cream[money] & lie low,
Then hittin' up his rivals
An eye for an eye
and dealin' with street survival,

Makes him drift back to his childhood,
When it was much peace & all good,
But now he gets no sleep
He creeps deep in foul hoods,
Where bodies get chalked & the crowd stood,

In amazement,
Witnessin' homicide engravements on the pavements,
Too much of this misbehavement,

Has the communities decaying
and too many youngsters fall before their prime,
And the harsher the crime, steeper the prison time,

But he was born a product in a wicked jungle,
Bred to run amongst those who are far from humble,
And addicted to makin' they're funds grow,
And plus they're quick to stun those,

Who gets victimized by the hoods jurisdiction,
A whole slew of unsolved crimes
with very few convictions,
And justice is missin',
Because this lifestyle is opposite of fiction,

So he marches through ghetto life
with his hard hat & boots on,
Still focussed on gettin' his loot on,
While killers get their shoot on,
Many of them shoot wrong,
So innocent bystanders been dying for too long,
But he continues to move on,
As 1 of the Young, Wicked & Black

Copyright © louis brown | Year Posted 2015

Details | Hip Hop Poem | |

Love or Help

You live to love, When you love to give. That life you never had Like forever, had no wealth. Still had a hand to help. All I have is dreams for myself grand plans for world and words to rhyme with strength. The world will change, it depends on range of rage or love we raise. Well thats a phase of world, where we stay some for months, some for days or its a game we play and score to glee. All above, We live to love and we need to give.

Copyright © rahul bhatia | Year Posted 2016

Details | Hip Hop Poem | |

hip hop raised me

Hip-hop raised me
I remember beefs between Big and Tupac, game and 50, Nas and Jay Z
Listening to N.W.A, Nas, Big Pun, Rakim and AZ
From LL cool J, Tupac to Slim Shady

A lot of dead rappers and it fills me with sadness
An industry filled with madness
Studying straight outta Compton, amerikkkas most wanted, blueprint and illmatic
Some say they could only listen to eminem when he was a pill addict

They say he fell off with recovery
This is something that troubles me
You don’t like it when a rapper does something different
But if he stayed the same you’d say he has no vision

Hip-hop is filled with enough lies
Some of you should stop freestyling and just write
A lot of people didn’t understand what tupac meant by Thug life
It’s such a shame he was killed by Suge Knight

Suge owed Tupac millions, & when Dre left death row he was owed royalties
I guess Suge chose money over loyalty
Now de.dre is hip-hops first billionaire
This is great with the foundation he’s been building here

The greatest producer of all time
Even if he doesn’t write his own rhymes
Gave us Eazy E, Snoop, Em, and Game
So we will always remember his name

I always preferred lyrics over beat
Or the perfect mixture like “Shook ones” by Mobb Deep
But hip-hop has had a lot of one hit wonders
Gone after having the biggest song of the summer

Nas said hip-hop was dead
And it still needs sorting out
Have always been a hip-hop head
And it’s being revived by Immortal Technique, J.cole and Slaughterhouse

Eminem carried hip-hop for so long
I’m sure he must be suffering withy back pain
Some can’t name a run DMC, big daddy Kane, or Rakim song
They think G-unit created the rap game

But 50 was more interested in clothes and sneakers
Greatest diss song of all time?
300 bars, no Vaseline or ether
Greatest album? It was written has to be mine

I learnt more from Hip-hop than I did school books
Like there’s no such thing as half-way crooks
Was about 11 when Nas made you look
Hip-hop I could never get enough

But now I’m worried about the state of hip-hop
There’s only a few who can bring it back
Can’t listen to YMCMB, Gucci mane or Rick Ross
Or these who make up dances because they can’t rap

Hip-hop saved my life
Nas, Em, Tupac, Big L. Big pun Wu Tang Clan
Some of the greatest to touch the mic
It helped me grow from a boy to a man 

Copyright © Alex Duffy | Year Posted 2014

Details | Hip Hop Poem | |

I miss hip hop

Hip-hop died when beats became more important than lyrics
These days it’s just a beat and cheesy hook
95% of rappers sound the same; I don’t want to hear it
Studied the greats so I won’t become a slave in Nas’s rhyme book

Rappers talking about guns they’re too small to lift
Bragging about diamonds and the size of their chain
Yet some fans have the nerve to say Eminem and Nas should call it quits
At least they write to bring change

Half these new kids probably need Immortal technique, Lupe fiasco and Kendrick Lamar to dumb it down
In the mainstream all they hear is sex, drugs and lyrics that make no sense
All the good hip-hop is underground
In the mainstream its guys rapping about what they don’t represent

We need someone like Tupac who did song writing to believe 
Wasn’t scared to stand up to anyone fighting his beliefs
N.W.A had a genuine reason for not liking the police
A few old school west coast rappers tried getting Bloods and Crips reuniting for peace

We don’t get a thing from rappers today
They don’t understand the importance of KRS one, Public Enemy, Rakim, Big Pun or Jam Master Jay 
Dear god you can have Gucci Mane, Lil Wayne, and soulja boy if you bring Tupac back to life
 Sick of some hip-hop fans still bringing up the fact Eminem’s white

I remember when Nas destroyed Jay-Z with ether
But these days every song on an album is a feature
It’s getting worse, it’s too poppy and auto tune sadly came
I’d rather listen to LL cool J, Ice Cube, Kurupt, Big daddy Kane

Pitbull gets played on the radio every 5 minutes
All his songs are cheesy and sound the same
Jadakiss hasn’t got the respect he deserve since he arrived in it
Biggie said the sky’s the limit but first we need the ground to change

Crooked I is the king of the west
Joe budden is the most under-rated he gets everything off his chest
He’d rather inspire people than make radio hits that bring a bigger cheque
She has no talent, so to sell records Nicki Minaj has to strip to her g-string and a vest

14 years in and still credible yet fabulous hasn’t got the respect he deserves
Lyrically above most and kills every verse
Yet Iggy Azelia is everywhere despite the fact she ahs ghost-writers
The last thing hip-hop needs is another Flo rida

I’ve always been an outcast maybe that’s why I listen to Big Boi and Andre
Since he got with Kim, we just haven’t had good music from Kanye
At least Eminem came in and said I’ll be like me not like you
How can any west-coast rapper not have respect for Ice-T & Ice Cube

Too many new rappers claim to be the greatest when they’re not even close to the best
They can’t compare to Nas, Eminem, Tupac, Biggie, Big L, Big Pun or Dmx
I could have named a lot more but I’d be here all day so apologies to anyone I missed off
I’m sick of this new rap music. I miss hip-hop 

Copyright © Alex Duffy | Year Posted 2015

Details | Hip Hop Poem | |

i wanna be creative

i want to be creative 
but sometime i am negative
damn someone turn me positive 
to make me feel am a good native

listen to me bb no one can be great
only if you now how to make the beat 
beat the best and u never take a set
cuz everyone well the bad freaky beast

Copyright © anasse kamal | Year Posted 2014

Details | Hip Hop Poem | |


I bring hit after hit like a boxer
You haters' inconsistent
Everybody's on the same vibe
Mine's kinda' different
Verse hot, hook hot--
I'm gon' sellout soon as I drop
Verse hot, hook hot--
I'm gon' sellout soon as I drop

Minor in poetry, fine-arts major

Doctor goon on deck, call this a fear-factor

I'm going in, but I ain't got no curfew

I son a lot of you, it's like I birth you

Got a lot of verses, but this ain't a Bible

Fallout when you hear this, I ain't liable

Ain't talking 'bout tearing, but the beats R.I.P

Didn't sell a lot of tracks, but I got D.O.E

Put you up on game, my hustle's M.O.E

Music over everything, ain't moving 'D'

I got cash like the bank, I sell CD's

Smells funny, tickled my nose, I might sneeze

You would think I'm water, the way I flow

I'm just like some dynamite, bound to blow

Act like you're in a recliner, lay back

If I ain't on fire, then why they say that?

Feature, feature, can I get a feature

So far ahead I sit on competition--bleacher

My Raps' like a bunch of apartment buildings, complex

Got chicks on my jock', ain't talking 'bout sex

I'm so different, it's magnificent

Haters want me to fall, but that's not how the script went

Thing's fishy, I ain't gettin' caught in that net

Just killed the beat, without breaking a sweat

Copyright © Arcene Janvier | Year Posted 2013

Details | Hip Hop Poem | |

Straight to the point

>>1111>>STRAIGHT TO THE POINT<<1111<<

Straight to the point, 
No stopping this,
I'm your rival,
This life is about survival,
Or survival of the fittest?
The dopest most explosive lyrical genius writing this,
Beats are tight and vital,
About to take and claim my title,
I'm a nineties dirty ghetto kid,
Accessing detailed memories through subconscious files,
Skateboard connected to my feet grounded,
Pen and paper writing for miles,
Embracing life in a system of madness,
Always doin my best with a huge smile,
While fully grateful,
Within the game with no shame,
On a different level,
Nothing is ever the same,
Imagination left wild,
Positive tendencies learnt through experiments,
Some failed,
Listening to greenthumb, inhale,
Giving anything a go,
within a system i'm not labeled,
Minds collectively lacking cognition,
Brain function disabled,
Getting a message across in rhyme,
Mailed to your mind,
Will it consciously reach ya? teach ya?
My krew never far, we have a laugh,
And hit the footpath,
Skating to a spot with steez,
Stomping tricks but it’s not enough,
Gotta skate fast and master our craft on film,
A skate process of learning patience and pain,
Falling constantly, never giving up,
Fully mindful maneuvers landed consistently,
Converting new skate knowledge to life instantly,
Brain cells firing with high energy form electricity,
Synapse resurrected for the very first time,
Elevating effectively with positivity and productive activity,
In the eyes of society I’m on the same level as workers in a factory,
Trapped but found my way out,
On an alternative route,
I’ve knelt,
To the source creating all of our force,
A seeker without remorse cause that don’t matter,
There’s no deity creator,
Just innocent ignorant talking as a hater,
Instead be like ill mind of Hopsin seven,
Questioning sin, Dismiss,
Listen up, I gotta state this,
This strategic system using the majority of countries citizens,
What I’m consciously witnessing from a distance in the South pacific,
Is insanity at its core to be specific,
Writing from my imagination sober and sometimes stoned,
Striving for balance,
On my skateboard I feel the same,
Sending this out,
You know my name,
Just another street nobody with fame within my clan,
My man Fury this is for you Homie.


Copyright © Quincy Mac | Year Posted 2015

Details | Hip Hop Poem | |

My Boat

A boat floating on this endless ocean of poetry/
Carrying the generation of free verse/
Lion smiles on their faces
A journey to their brains when this photographic poetry spit poisonous truth/
Roof of their brains shield under dreaded brains/
Who speaks for your lips
When they keep spitting in your face/
A nation sucking your tears dry
Nobody knows you cry
You die unconsciously
Your poetry expires
You speak for the mute
Puke unspoken poetry
Corner of your brain knows nobody knows you cry
Unconsciously the bridge of life you jump
You lie
You keep away from eyes that reflect shadows of your spirit in poetry/
Ride my boat and live it/

Copyright © Raymond Ngomane | Year Posted 2013

Details | Hip Hop Poem | |

Yung MCs

Hook: Here's the truth. We gon shine. Yung MCs and that's no lie. Coming up. To our door. Yea we got them flows galore. (Repeat x4)         Verse: Guess who just jumped on the phone. Riding to a new metronome. With his sickish flows. He's hysterical. So scientific, alchemical. And everyone knows I'm genuine. I'm stacking do like innuen. Time for you to tell all your friends that this yung mc is stepping in. The rap game poor. Needs a switch in economics. Cuz a lot of these suckas still talking bout the chronic. Youthful intelligence, call it Malcolm in the middle. You old brothers sit down. Try to learn to widdle. Cuz these yung MCs gonna leave you frikazied.  We a whole new breed. Give the people what they need.  We a brand new sound. From a dusty ghost town. Reborn from the ashes. It had burned to the ground. This yung brother yurns. For the world to hears his words. Because the rap nowadays is so absurd. But I assure you this. When I walk into the room. Put my mouth to the mic. And straight up kill it on a tune. I'll come with a style that'll match any vet. Rhymes way swift  5 blade like Gillette. The level I stand will never be met. Cuz you fly bird. Yet I fly jet. And honestly when we on the scene you hear the sickest similes. Slicing beats with symmetry that cause the haters ears to bleed. I take the light you try to keep. Cuz all your words are obsolete. It's night-night. Time to sleep. Close the crypt. Rest in peace.

Copyright © Julian Miles | Year Posted 2014

Details | Hip Hop Poem | |


some ppl call me freak
damn i think theyr from the Greece
why do not u suck my dick
to know who is the freak

shit you want to be great
but u can not run for 10 feet
u know get back and take a set
and learn from all over the best

Copyright © anasse kamal | Year Posted 2014

Details | Hip Hop Poem | |


sometime i work so hard
but a kind of ppl make it bad
thats make me feel so deep sad
you know i just laugh on dm laud 

some of dm think they'r British
shit weak up ur just like a bitch 
u can't handle it so u just scratch
ur self cuz u losz ur dream nd u can't  catch

Copyright © anasse kamal | Year Posted 2014

Details | Hip Hop Poem | |

For the love of Hip Hop

What happened to the music I love?
How has it got in such a state?
These days it's just about sex, money and drugs
I remember when I'd get a story when I put in tapes

Some people don't understand the difference between Hip-Hop and rap
Maybe they don't care 
Or maybe they haven't got the facts
Let me tell you what they won't share

Rappers sell their souls to record label vultures
Real Hip-Hop lyricists respect the culture
A true Hip-hop Emcee will earn the respect
A rapper will make some corny song to earn a cheque

A rapper will sell their soul to sell records
A true emcee will take their time on a project and make an effort
Rappers let labels exploit them to make them stars
Emcees and lyricists care about spitting the best bars

I almost died of shock when someone told me Drake is better than Nas
How can you compare a Pop Star to a Hip-Hop god?
How did we go from Rakim, Big Pun, Big L and lyricists who embraced Hip-hop with love
To the nonsense we hear from Gucci Mane, Rick Ross, Soulja boy and Young thug?

Hip-hop was better before twitter
I miss when "Beef" meant diss songs not going on social media to sound bitter
Cause he's white some people still don't give Eminem the credit he deserves
Like it or not he's a genius and incredible with words

All these rappers sound the same they must use the same ghost writers
Don't get me started on Iggy Azelia, Pitbull and Flo Rida
When a song comes on the radio I know it's awful before I even hear it
Hip-hop died when beats came more important than lyrics

I'd rather listen to old school hip-hop than today's nonsense
Back when Hip-hop songs had concepts
And rappers made their lyrics complex
Kids these days think Nelly started Hip-Hop but don't know KRS-One yet

It saddens me the love of lyrics are lost
What happened to the music I love?
Rappers put no effort in their music and care more about how they look
I wrote this for my love of Hip-Hop

Copyright © Alex Duffy | Year Posted 2015

Details | Hip Hop Poem | |

Santas Responsibility Rap

Santa’s Responsibility Rap
Loch David Crane 
July 2, 2006

Santa's jolly all year long
	he’s such a happy soul;
but if ya ever cross him
	he’ll put you in a hole.

Santa’s very red and white
	he knows who's good and bad.
His character assessment
	shows us what a life you’ve had.

So obey your Mums and Daddies
	and the helpful officers too
then we can jail the bad guys
	and help each other through.

We write laws to protect us all,
	both powerful and least;
 treat others as you treat yourself,
	respecting all, is best.

But if you sass your Daddy,
	or the officer ignore,
expect a swat upon your rump
	or SWAT outside your door.

Ol' Santa reads the crime reports
	on a computer he refused
to deliver to a bad boy
	whose trust had been abused.

He's read your blog on Facebook
	and he knows what's in your heart:
so "you better be good for goodness’ sake"
	or your gifts will all depart.

Santa doesn't like bad boys
	or messes on the floor.
He doesn't have to forgive you
	and he doesn't have to bring more.

For Santa reflects what you give to others
	and whom you choose to be;
because only a pleasant person 	
	gets dreams beneath his tree.

A loud, or stubborn, or spoiled child
	sees an empty cactus tree;
a helpful, cheerful, giving kid
	is a joy that Santa sees.

You must think as much of others
	as you do just for yourself
if you want to see those goodies
	coming towards you off the shelf.

 'Cause Santa isn't Jesus,
	that's why he keeps a list
of happy little readers
	and those in whom he's disappointed.	

Santa doesn't love you all
	or listen when you pray--
just good behavior is the key
	for toys on Xmas day.

"What's the X in Xmas?"
	trembling little voices cry.
X is an unknown value
	until you steal or lie.

For Santa isn't Jesus,
	he's an atheist you see –
he dispenses voluntary gifts
	underneath his pagan tree.

He doesn't owe you anything,
	 his gifts are from the heart..
He judges your behavior
	and each year is a new start.

As you behave, so shall you be	
	rewarded by St. Nick;
but if you're bad the year before
	then coal will be his trick.

What goes around comes back around
	and what was old is new;
When you give respect to others
 	it returns increased to you.

Copyright © Loch David Crane | Year Posted 2014

Details | Hip Hop Poem | |

Did I waste my time

At first school was cool
Had to abide by one simple rule
Read and write
And never fight
Recite the alphabet
How easy can it get?
One plus one is two
Two times two is four
D O O R spells door
Maths was about addition and subtraction
Multiplication and division
Studied animals and apes
And all them shapes
Circles and triangles
Squares and rectangles
Pentagons, hexagons
Septagons, octagons
Nonagons and decagons
Then I grew a little and things got tough
The stuff got a bit rough
School became boring
Talk of junior-high bullying
I got scared and
The maths got weird
Areas and volumes
Cones and pyramids
Cords and sectors
Quantities and vectors
Pi r squared?
Half times base times height?
No way I’m getting these right
Positives and negatives
Radius and diameter
Areas, perimeters
Voltmeters and ammeters
More and more shapes
Rhombus, star and trapezium
Physics and chemistry
Lithium and helium
Biology and history
Mussolini, Hitler and Stalin,
And the famous wall of Berlin
I thought I was done
But things got less fun
I started to debit and credit
Economics and statistics
Differentiation and intergration
Poisson and normal distribution
Assignments, projects and dissertations
Now I’ve got the diplomas and degrees
But guess what
I’m just a poet
Now, tell me
Did I waste my time?

Copyright © John Pen | Year Posted 2014

Details | Hip Hop Poem | |

Hip Hop lost its art

what happened to the music I love and know?
so many claiming they "Kill it" so how could it grow?
they were murdering it, Record labels took its soul
idiots believe that the Illuminati put a hold
Illuminati isn't real, let me say it again
illuminati isn't real, what you going to do? take away my pen
I love Hip-Hop and I'm not scared to adress it
idiots think Rick Ross is keeping it alive, they're not prepared to accept it
I'm seeing this Young Thug wearing dresses
his lyrics make no sense, fans don't know where to reject it
What happened to the likes of Nas?, Rakim, Scarface and rapperd who shared a message
cheesy chorouses and poppy beats ended the bars
only real rappers we have left is Locksmith, Immortal Technique, J.Cole and Kendrick Lamar
only a few rappers spit the truth that they live
in "Hardest song ever" Locksmith talks about when he got abused as a kid
such a deep, talanted rapper not getting recognition
But Young Thug or Gucci Mane say Swag 100 times ans it gets a listen?
sick of all these new rappers acting real
These new kids think Nicki Minaj is better than Lil Kim and that hurts
Snow Tha Product is better than both, she doesn't need to strip to show her rapping skills
so many rappers prepared to accept a deal to be a one hit wonder as long as they top the charts
after instant success not longevity, is this where Hip-Hop lost its art?
or have record labels and executives got too smart?
did the maths and they found out the cost of hearts
let me tell you what's driving me crazy
People claiming to be N.W.A fans cause they've seen Straight outta Compton
ask them who Dre is "Oh The headphone guy who discovered Slim Shady"
ask them who Ice Cube is "Oh that guy who's an actor"
But they can't tell you MC Ren, Dj Yella, Cube, Dre and Eazy were rappers
because they're new guys who haven't done their history
Its gained popularity but lost its art form, is it really a victory?
Rick Ross, Soulja Boy, Tyga I can't believe what it's become
I miss Big L, Biggie, Tupac and Big Pun
Rappers sold out so "Swag" "Yolo" "Sex" "Money" is all we hear
only 2% of todays rappers have their soul and freedom of speech
Hip-Hop died when Kids ignored lyrics and only started listening to beats

Copyright © Alex Duffy | Year Posted 2015

Details | Hip Hop Poem | |


I am a child of the palace
Living like a slave
So that these human can relate
That fate
Never comes in a sliver plate
My life is great
No spoon, give me a spade

I am a winner without a race
A stubborn stain you can’t erase
I am known without a face
Set free without a case
When I get lost
I’m sketched and never traced

Too believe or not to
Is a choice
So to me, God is a choice

That inner voice 
That refuses to shut up 
When nobody is listening
Life is not a math problem
So I never looked for solutions
When I smile, it means I’m happy
When I cry, it means I’m alive

I was born 
But never raised
I am adored
But never praised
I am a child of that palace
Living like a slave
So that you can relate

That human are born to be loved 
And things are made to be used
But now things are loved 
And you and I are being used
And now we are confused
Over what we’ve become
Objects of envy hate and blame

I am a solder without ammo
I am the white keys in your piano
I am the fragrance in your flower garden
The only blessing from the curse of Eden

I was schooled but never taught
I was fooled but never caught
I was hated but never abated
Betrayed but never delayed 
Discriminated but never serrated,
Crowned but never celebrated
Mistaken but never regretted
I am a nightmare
That was never unrevealed

I am a gift wrapped up in a small curse
A jewel in life’s golden purse
A bird with wet wings
Waiting for the sun rays
So I can fly
And dance in the sky

I am the mirror
The reflection of what I am
And not who I am 
So who am I?

Copyright © CHEGE MBUGUA | Year Posted 2014