but the pussy..
the pussy was like diamond chains, velour suits, and big houses in the 'burbs.
The pussy was like drug money.
The pussy was like dreams.
Like waking up to a sunrise and seeing your kids off to school in a beautiful neighborhood.
fame's pussy was just that.
and just like that
hip hop was fucking famous.
had all the little white kids lined up against the window
watching fame drop down to her knees
their little red noses pressed squarely on the panes
the breaths heavy
as they watched fame suck hip hop dry
hip hop faked it's own death so that it didn't have to deal with the lovechild it had with fame.
it knew it shouldn't have fucked with that crazy bitch anyway
Something in her eyes looked too much like insecurity
Something in her hair smelled too much like inadequacy
Something in her womb looks too much like hip hop
so hip hop faked it's own death
the formula's simple
shit get's too fucked
you either run or you die
and hip hop ain't never really been about no death