What's Up Wit-Cha

I was young when my daddy told me I had an old soul
He blessed my ears with a story foretold
He said kids are being raised with a new algorithm
No more adults, only grown children
Turns out my Pops was just like Nostradamus
Because he predicted some of you black mamas
You claim you're being blamed for things that are untrue
But all these stupid names, now that's all on you
All the Yolanda's, Lavonda's, and Tiffany's
Are now Qwadresia, Allepishia, and LaShauntemelodie
You think these names are pretty, we can debate it
But won't they sound kind of silly when your ass turn eighty
This new kind of spelling that you're piecing together
Making up words that don't even match the letters
And how we suppose to feel, about your new of sex appeal
Ink up and down your body from neck to heel
You got 4 inch nails, & 2 inch eyelashes
These fake ass BBL's, with 3 foot hair patches
Hair red today, maybe yellow tomorrow
All these different eye colors, makes it hard to follow
I digress, we'll let it rest
See it's more than just you boo, acting a hot mess
Fellas, some of you ain't no better
Mention a full day's work and you niggas shudder
Living animalistic will only make you a statistic
Don't lay on the block, traced in chalk before you get this
Even if death miss you, you just end up in the system
Sad, looking thru glass, at your children from a distance
So what's up wit-cha, how you let them folks get-cha
Left your family alone now what's wrong with this picture
See your son is now starting to act all suspicious
Switching when he walks, calling himself juicylicious
I'm not being facetious, these are serious issues
You see I love my people that's why I'm trying to reach you
So cut the bullshit and start being there for your family
It's gonna take a village to end all this depravity
I'm tired of leaving the house, with 3 guns in my crotch
Because your bad ass child, is in the streets wilding out
Don't get mad at me, for saying what we all see
There can be no unity, without facing reality
So grab yourself a mirror, and let that reflection hit-cha
It'll get much clearer, if you ask it what's up wit-cha
It's such a shame
How we forgotten our name
We come from kings
See our Ancestors are crying
They see the way we're dying
Though we've lost our way
It's not too late
To find better days
And there's one other thing that you can best believe
We come from a long line of Kings & Queens
Sitting on thrones is where we supposed to be
Passing on our genetic royal pedigree
Instead we cut ourselves off at the knees
Crawling around in place like we're amputees
Dropping off our seed, in anything that breathe
Dumbing down the genes, with all these babies
See you produce only mutts emptying your nuts in sluts
From a damaged offspring you can't expect much
Black women I know you feel like you the scapegoat
Being the keeper of the flame makes you the main antidote
From the first child born and every birth since
Mothers have been their baby's first line of defense
The power is in your hand, to choose an appropriate man
To do all you can, to give new life a fighting chance
A female animal, will never mate with just any-old
She knows the survival of the species is just too valuable
So if a nigga ain't strong, tell his ass to roll on
And before long, the generational problem is gone
So grab yourself a mirror, and let the reflection hit-cha
It'll get much clearer, if you ask it what's up wit-cha