Freestyle jibberish

I remember a time when hip hop was kind of different
A time when eyes lied on the culture more than the bussiness
A time when rhymes mattered it was survival of the fittest
But times have changed for better and worse, I'm a witness
Fake thugs swear their weapons is heard with they sentences slurred
Rappers be lazy, I give it a hundred and ten percent in my words
Instead of the nerds babblin' restin' their head on the curbs
Why not better ya girds and get all your past repentances heard
Thought yall was ill, but you must've went from sick to health
Call outs got you duckin' like yall just split with stealth
I aint the best even if I live to spit with wealth
I say I'm the best, but even the best contradict themself
Smooth, jewel flossin' dudes get more props than those that spit the best
While they spend more money on icy teeth than Winterfresh
One of the best changes though would have to be the Internet
Unknown artists can upload audios to finally win respect
And get recognized, if you're lucky a label will want ya record signed
Some of the best have tried, who knows you could be the next in line
Ignorant fans praise wack emcees, I can't stand the sight
They not even classified as dickriders no more, they parasites
I can't blame them, they can't get into the real lyricist's head
Nobody listens to music anymore, they just hear it instead
Beats are what make songs hot lately, but can take ten minutes to make
Artists spend days to write verses and then tracks are skipped in disgrace
It's a slap in the face to the poetic people that take the time
To make a rhyme whether it's complex story tellin' or an aerospace design
Let fate decide, everyone runnin' around tryin' to get papers signed
Don't got their priorities straight, here's another debate of mine
Turn on the TV and see the same videos like clones created in laboratorys
Same song concepts, just different beats, it's wack and boring
All these rappers wanna sing and dance about having parties
And then they're treated as kings with crowns and platinum markings
There used to be more social messages in songs back in the day
Artists lackin' the taste which keeps them stackin' their change
They lack substance while I try to touch on different subjects
But even if I got a budget there's a good chance I'll amount to nothin'
But hey, fuck it, these artists put out garbage and people love it
So who am I to judge these millionares and what they're becomin'
But my pride won't stain flowing through my lines of veins
Times have changed but rhymes remain to be blindly changed
I'll stick by my name whether through decline or gain
Times will change, while people will still die for fame