Dear Hip Hop

I've been thinking about my own master plan. Instead of sweat, I have my daughter's life inside of my hands. I dig into my pockets and analyze how my money is being spent and with the crazy cost of living, I keep coming up with lint. Unlike before motherhood is now my mission when I leave residence, I think about her when I think about dead presidents. I think about her smile, when I think about dead presidents.

Back in the day, I thought about Rakim, Nas and Jigga, whenever someone mentioned that phrase. But now, I think about tuition, ballet lessons and jeans getting too short and most of all which CD's to buy on Tuesday. Unfortunately, Hip-Hop, like an old Common Sense song, “I Used To Love You.”  Thus with great regret, you have been replaced with others. It's true... this scarlet letter is the official termination of our 25 year romance that started to decline 8 years ago when I became a mom.
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