I Don’t Understand It (M.C.’s What’s Going On)

[Big L]

There are too many MCs who are overrated

You ask me, they wasn't even supposed to make it

In the rap biz, they don't know what rap is

So give it up, become an actor or a actress

Or a producer, ‘cause you fail to use the

Microphone right, so take flight before I bruise ya

For sayin’ them bull crap whack raps on wax

You need to get smacked, sit back and rip that contract

I'm serious as cancer, I'm not playin’ games

I should get foul and buckwild and start sayin’ names

But deep down inside

You know who you are

Your rhymes are not up to par, you fake superstar

And that really gets on my nerve

When a rapper gets the credit that he don't deserve

Goin’ platinum and don't have no soul

Some rappers are mad nice and don't even go gold

I don't like the way it's goin’ down

Because it should be the other way around

I don't understand it

MCs, what's goin on?

I can't understand, man, how rappers col’ transform

One minute you're hardcore and raw

And that's what you was known for, but not

No more

You changed and rearranged

You're not the same, your raps are plain

And that explains why you lost your fame

Used to be on top, but you fell like rain drops

You turned pop, now you no longer gain props

Who fault is that? Nobody's but your own, black

Used to make dope tracks, jack, but now you're stone whack

So MCs, don't ever step out your range

Remain the same and only change with the time

Unless you get dropped like a dime

Yo, go for yours like I'm goin for mine

But if you're rough, stay rough, if you're dapper, stay dapper

And never try

To look or even sound like another rapper

Just fulfill your own needs

Some rappers wore gold chains but now they're wearin' beads?

I don't understand it

On the lyrical side, this is how it should be done

I'm not the one, my raps are stronger than rum

But some, MCs grab the mic and sound dumb

Plus slum, how come? Rap skills, they have none

And I wonder how the hell they get record sales

They raps are stale and frail

And forced like fairy tales

Your technique and everything you speak is weak

Got a little airplay because of your beats

Your fame and your name, but your lyrics are lame, jack

Step to this and get ran over like train tracks

Your raps are poor and whack and you went on tour with that

Crap, don't understand it, ‘cause rhyme skills you lack

I got more soul than Nike Airs, givin’ MCs nightmares

Rappers be frontin’ hard and rhymes they don't write theirs

But they still call themselves MCs?

Please, how could that be?

I don't understand it