“Rappers suck, when they spit I doubt ‘em/

The crap they sing about make you wanna slap the f**kin sh** out ‘em.’”

-   MF Doom, El Chupa
 Nibre, The Mouse and the Mask.                    

No doubt, MF Doom’s indictment of today’s rap ‘artists’ comes off as tame when compared to the overall emotion expressed by Hip-Hop fans around the world. Doom, who once promised to “[c]atch a rapper by his toe and smack off his tattoos,” is not too far off in translating the desires of Hip-Hop fans who have witnessed a drastic degeneration of content, drive, and concept, in today’s rap songs. Many, such as Nas, have since declared Hip-Hop “dead,” for its devil-may-care attitude toward dominant forms of hedonism, materialism, despotism and chauvinism within the culture. Whether one agrees with the concept of resolving Hip-Hop’s problems through violence or hyperbolic rhetoric, one thing remains irrefutable – Hip-Hop is morally sick and in need of divine help. In this perilous age, a prophetic change must come.

Though we all find many parts of modern-day Hip-Hop unbecoming of the vision inspired by Afrika Bambaattaa, we cannot save the Hip-Hop generation by engaging in the same pathetic exercises of bemoaning and complaining about the loss of the ‘Golden Age’ era – where everything operated under the canopy of perfection. It is disrespectful to the present and does not provide much inspiration for the future. In fact, I have consistently maintained the premise that many elements of the so-called Golden-Age paved the path for some of the more-discouraging aspects of our beloved art-form today.

The ‘Superfly-generation’ was neither faultless nor flawless. Can anyone confidently make the claim that Big Daddy Kane, in all his majesty, was devoid of misogyny? The art-covers of “Long Live the Kane” and “It's a Big Daddy Thing” – all ’80s-babies – do little justice to the causes of Feminism and Womanism. The grand lyricist would, years later – in his Count Mackula character, from Prince Paul’s “A Prince Among Thieves,” – suggest that “thirty-six prostitutes and thirty cents in your pocket” lends credence to the claim that “hoes come a dime a dozen.” Following this logic, Big Daddy Kane should be as much a misogynist as Nelly, 50 cent, Ludacris, Jay-Z and even Common, are professed to be. It is, therefore, clear that the problems of Hip-Hop are not specifiable to our myopic generalizations of 21^st century Hip-Hop artists. Another development which I wish to address, and hopefully arrest, is the notion that social-consciousness within Hip-Hop is the solution to our countless problems.

Politically-charged Hip-Hop, while temporarily conducive, is not the answer. Socially-conscious artists simply react to the catastrophic casualties surrounding them. This explains the rise of social-consciousness, in Hip-Hop, shortly after the initiation of Reaganomics and the influx of crack into Black ghettoes across the nation. As the ‘80s swept in the debris of arch-conservatism, Reagan swiftly became the punching bag of frustration for artists who grew up in the inner-cities, and witnessed the commercialization of their neighborhoods – especially the Bronx – through scandalous governmental contracts.

As a bonus, this era of depression would yield an unprecedented demand for crack, cocaine and other miscellaneous drugs. Busta Rhymes informs us in “Takin’ What’s Mine” – produced by the inimitable J. Dilla – that though finances were scarce, “the coke was so good, the fiends was smoking the capsule.” In “You Can't Hide, You Can't Run,” Dilated Peoples express similar sentiments, noting that “crack and gangs flourished under Ronald Reagan.” As a result, a surge of social-consciousness was inevitable, as Hip-Hop artists, with their mic-clutched hands on the pulse of the ghettoes, could accurately gauge the emotion of Black and Brown neighborhoods. Nevertheless, with social-consciousness at the apex, several artists recognized its inability to render long-lasting remedies to ailing-communities across the country, and the world at-large.

A few, such as Public Enemy, Brand Nubian, Poor Righteous Teachers, Lakim Shabazz, and eventually, Tupac recognized the need to elevate Hip-Hop’s consciousness from the political to the prophetic. They all, at some point, incorporated the prophetic tradition of bearing unmitigated witness in their truth-telling, through the vehicle of Hip-Hop. It should come as no surprise, to readers, that this writer believes Tupac’s legacy of prophetic truth-telling will remain unparalleled for years, and perhaps decades, to come. In Blasphemy, a truly prophetic offering, Tupac encourages listeners to bring critique to bear on the politics of religion and theocracy:

“The preacher want me buried why? Cause I know he a liar/
Have you ever seen a crackhead, that's eternal fire/
Why you got these kids minds thinking that they evil/
While the preacher being richer, you say honor God's people/
Should we cry, when the Pope die, my request/
We should cry if they cried when we buried Malcolm X/”

Tupac remains an inextinguishable icon in popular music, and literature, for this reason. What he understood, which many, otherwise, socially-conscious artists are unaware of, is that the prophetic mode resists the temptation of simply reiterating the problems of crime and inequality, but instead offers viable resolutions to liberate the mental and spiritual faculty of listeners. Tupac understood, quite clearly, that socially-conscious artists simply underline the social ramifications of society’s actions – nothing to do with personal character – yet, prophetically-aligned artists seek to address the problems of the world in a truthful, candid, complex and divinely-sophisticated fashion – through exemplary leadership that provides hope for the future.

If Hip-Hop’s official reaction to the recent U.S. presidential election was of any significance, it goes without saying that the prophetic wing was surely missing, in its uncritical embracement of President-Elect Obama as the ‘change candidate.’ Safe for a few politically-conscious artists, such as Dead Prez, NYOIL and Rebel Diaz, the Hip-Hop realm was engulfed in ‘Obamamania,’ as it sold itself short in proclaiming Obama the “first Hip-Hop president.” Seconds after Obama unveiled his iPod, and revealed his love for card-carrying misogynists, a la Ludacris and Jay-z, the Hip-Hop nation professed loyalty to ‘Bama, over Bambaattaa.. Prophetic Hip-Hop, which operates as a countervailing force of righteousness against war, empire and unrest, was omitted in the unmerited support thrown Obama’s way, as he rode the high carriage of popularity and celebrity into victory.

This phenomenon of the Hip-Hop community abdicating its prophetic mission to compensate for social-consciousness took form as early as 2004, when, as Rosa Clemente – National Hip-Hop Political Convention co-founder – remembers it, the convention was more concerned with recruiting Black and Brown voters “to vote for John Kerry,” than building a movement of substance to counter the corporate forces Sen. Kerry represented.

It should be, at this point, clear that social-consciousness would not suffice in rehabilitating the Hip-Hop community. Prophetic Hip-Hop seems to be the only savior for a generation bred on Lil’ Wayne, Jim Jones, Young Jeezy, Lil’ Scrappy, Mike Jones, Paul Wall, Soulja Boy, etc. With prophetic Hip-Hop, the years of industry-sanctioned Black-on-Black violence – be it verbally or physically – can be finally laid to rest, and washed away over the oceans of memory. Prophetic Hip-Hop can also help stop the bleeding begun by corporate executives of record labels, and begin a genuine healing process for female Hip-Hop listeners. A New Year should herald a new phase and a new beginning. By the end of this New Year, there would be no doubt as to whether Hip-Hop survives as an art-form, or devolves into the commercial enterprise it is becoming. So, what’s it gonna be: Prophetic Hip-Hop or socially-conscious Rap?

Tolu Olorunda is a Columnist for BlackCommentator.com.