Production: Don Asero
A lot of the times when I tell people I'm an emcee, they
usually ask: "How's that different from being a rapper?"
An emcee is always a rapper, but a rapper isn't necessarily
an emcee. Rapping is the art of putting words over a beat, and then saying them
with rhythm (known as flow). Rappers do this, but that's about where they stop.
There's usually nothing more to their lyrics except for disconnected, albeit
clever metaphors, and similes about how dope they are. Some can rap
extraordinarily well, but they have no idea how to make a song.
Emcees are rappers who learned how to rap, and then learned how to make songs. Their lyrics usually match the tone of the beat, and they change
up their flows for each one, making the track cohesive. Their tracks move the
crowd, the essence of the abbreviation, "MC". They do so not only
physically, but emotionally as well. Emcees can make you feel anger, happiness,
sadness, or any other emotion with their tracks. Most rappers can't do this.
One of the most widely considered "best"
guitarists of all time is Jimi Hendrix. Even though there are a lot of
guitarists that are technically more proficient, they couldn't do what Jimi
did. Just because they can solo like no one else, doesn't mean that they could
write memorable guitar parts, something that Jimi did constantly, and consistently. And just
because some people can put some words that flow together over a beat, that
doesn't make them an emcee.
Lyrics
I never got the book of hip-hop
rules and regulations.
Apparently I should fill my
lyrics with mostly defamations.
According to chapter nine, I’m
not braggadocious enough; I should be spitting about how I made it despite a
life so rough.
Then again, according to chapter
ten, you’re allowed to exaggerate. The life you actually lead makes no
difference.
So maybe I should talk about how
much cash I have, although my bank account reads zero, there’s no need for
people to know that.
What you need to know, and this
I learned from chapter fifteen, is that my flow is so flawless that you could
call it Sistine.
A line comparing myself to
Michelangelo should follow, but not only is that cliché, but it makes the line
feel hollow.
It hardly makes any sense, but
that’s what hip-hop is right?
Lyrics don’t have to make sense,
as long as the flow is tight.
Anyways, that’s what I think the
book is trying to teach.
Sure, it’ll make you a rapper,
but it won’t make you an emcee.
Just because you put some words
over beats, that doesn’t mean that you can call yourself an emcee.
Now these are just some rules
that seem set into place.
‘Cause every other rapper follows
suit, they’ve no original tastes.
Though it’s over thirty, hip-hop
is still considered young.
Though it’s the only genre with
no subs, like a school with no funds, like an fps with one gun, like a bakery
with just buns. When it comes to styles a ton. Yet hip-hop is still grouped as
one?
Now that doesn’t make any sense
at all to me. Yet that’s how it’s presented to the majority of society.
The reason being is that most of
these candy rappers take the role of a candy wrapper, shiny, cause inside there’s
nothing but crap, or they claim to represent a whole entire genre. Don’t realize
that by doing so they’re cannibalizing like piranha.
They try to adhere to what they
think hip-hop should be:
Bullshit, lined with metaphors,
set to rhyme over a beat, with incoherent lyrics that don’t match the
instrumental. Something emcees would never do, but then that’s
fundamentals.
Just because you put some words
over beats, that doesn’t mean that you can call yourself an emcee.
Got your own style, though it’s
far from unique. And yes, you have a decent flow, control over the technique.
Just because you put some words
over beats, that doesn’t mean that you can call yourself an emcee.
