I love hip-hop: the poetry, stories recited to beats that call for head-bobbing. Good hip-hop makes me want to be creative, truly inspiring me to open my mind to everything and everyone.
It is the only genre of music that forces me to look at myself so critically, creating a fire within me, a desire to uncover my subconscious thoughts and dreams. Corny? I know. I hope I haven’t lost you.
I just don’t think people (like the ones who walk past my open dorm room door while my music blasts) understand why a white suburban girl like me loves rap.
I can’t lie, I have been increasingly disappointed by the direction in which mainstream hip-hop has moved. 
I guess I have always admired the lesser-known artists of the genre, but I have never been so annoyed by the currently popular.
My friends turn on Chief Keef’s “Love Sosa” in the car; the arrogance and ignorance of the lyrics is like nails on a chalk board. My face wrinkles in disgust (it’s called the Thizz Face).
I have to wonder why my friends – intelligent college students of all races – enjoy listening to such incoherent rambling.
Hip-hop originated in the ghetto of South Bronx, New York in the 70s and developed into the art form it is today.
Blatantly put, it was created by and for black communities. Beyond beats and creative rhymes, hip-hop describes a culture revolved around racial inequalities of the time.
Tupac is one of my favorite examples of past hip-hop artists, although I know he did not come onto the cultural landscape until it was fairly well-established.
Listening to his lyrics, I do not find the disconnected, unintelligible repeated phrases of the today’s music rappers  – but fluent and aesthetic poetry.
Tupac wrote about the experiences of the people in his neighborhood, which did not correspond to that of white people.
If Tupac rhymed with slang and grammatical errors, it was because that was part of the culture he was trying to represent: that’s how the people whom he wanted to reach related to him.
He was real, whether he spoke about violence, racism or his hope for change within black communities.
One current rapper, most popular for his eloquent line, “She got a big booty, so I call her big booty,” has recently entered the hip-hop scene, dumbing himself down to remarkable levels in order to appeal to the masses. 2 Chainz attended University of Alabama State where he received an athletic scholarship, leading me to believe he must be far more intelligent than the music he makes.
Sadly, I think he does understand how strongly he perpetuates the black rapper stereotype – he is simply too consumed by money to care.
I don’t think I can understand why the mainstream glorifies the ignorance.
All I can assume is it has to do with the roots of rap and the true education levels of its founders.
But exaggerating this language only insults the artists of that time, destroying the purpose of hip-hop.
The place for white artists in a genre where success is based on grammatically idiotic lyrics is questioned.
A white rapper who mocks black slang … that is not tight.
Macklemore, an up-and-coming white rapper from my home state of Washington, has gained recent exposure due to his song “Thrift Shop,” in which I believe he pokes fun at the lavish lifestyle of other rappers.
The lyrics of most of his songs tell a story, flowing beautifully as they illustrate his experiences, struggles, fears and dreams.
He expresses his doubts as a white MC in his song, “White Privilege” saying, “Hip-hop started off in a block that I’ve never been to, to counteract a struggle that I’ve never even been through.”
He makes a valid point -he did not grow up in South Bronx during the 70s. He is not black.
But this does not mean he has experienced nothing. Suffering cannot be measured – we have all ached.
What is so beautiful about hip-hop is its raw grittiness. It’s the tension between an MC and his audience when he spills his soul that is so gripping.
An artist is a person who can clearly articulate his or her struggle, big or small, to listeners who will ultimately be affected by that contact.
For this reason, hip-hop can reach across all demographics – if we focus on its art form, not the stereotype it has become.