Renegade

Renegade teenage rage babes

thinkin’ they all grown, all knowin’

when they seedlin’s barely sown

bleedin’ teenage angst with teenage crankst

always rhymin’ and mis-timin’ some poetry-crimin’

mis-mashin', diss-bashin'

word-clashin' song

heard on some half-sappy, sex-happy,

yap-rap, smack-attack vid

made by some brotha who’s just anotha

angry angst-ridden

wannabe gangsta kid

 

With a street beat

they be hummin’ or singin’ along

repeatin’ the deceit

not knowin’ curse verses

are just plain wrong and mostly maligin’

while grownups in earshot

takin’ all them swearshots

wishin’ them words had sweeter rhymin’

or that kids be more discreet

would take their claptrap,

no-class, crass-crack lyrics

and just tweet ‘em or mime ‘em

 

But if ‘dults could go back, meet themselves

when they was punk teens

fittin’ into pre-shrunk his or her hunk jeans

listenin’, partyin’ to poppin’ rockin’

unusual musical junk boy band scenes

and lettin’ out star-struck

super-charged

groanal hormonal

no-one-could-understand gland screams

then they’d be amused ya know,

might change their views ya know

cause remind ‘em not so pristine

when child and ‘dult they was in-between

 

Kids always lookin’ to find

who they are and who they be

imprisoned involuntarily

in their youthful penitentiary

no matter what century they be from you see

 

So if thinkin’ rap sucks cause

it’s just no-class hurls and low-class slurs

then fire-up that flux capacitor of yours,

head back to yo’ past and meet yo’ younger him or hers

see your own rebelling mis-teen-stakes

then rapping notions you might reshape

or rapping judgments remake

or least maybe now tolerate new-age teenage

rapping outbreaks and in-yo-face ear-quakes

realizin’ that come whateva or wheneva

that all teens now, before an’ where-eva

will evamore and eva be

natural renegades foreva!