Is Rap the most Yea Forums genre of music?

Rock is where it's at. Sorry, rapfags.

AHH AM GOIN
AHH AM GOIN
ANY WHICH WAY THE WINDS MAY BE BLOWIN
AHH AM GOIN
AHH AM GOIN
WHERE STREAMS OF WHISKEY ARE FLOWIN

>listening to music with words
>listening to music with a beat

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Both have the same depth, though. Not sure why you keep posting this meme image from Yea Forums

>listening to music with words

Oh God please stop I left Yea Forums to escape you cretins.

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Black Metal is the most Yea Forums subgenre.

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I exclusively listen to Double Negative by Low since it came out

Ugh you have just given me a vision of my personal hell.

I guess I would go and see Party Cannon because they are the only ones without one of the stupid spider web fonts.

Niggermusi for niggers and people who wish they were niggers, which is quite frankly worse than being a nigger, because niggers at least are niggers involuntarily and naturally.

Wagner. He was.. the prince of all artists.

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in this context rap probably includes written word songs, mumble rappers who make awful music that doesn't sound like music under any circumstance.

Improved freestyle as well, which makes sense maybe 30% of the time.

...

Here comes the beekeeper
With her pitcher full of smoke
She'll put us all to sleep
I hope it's dreamless and it's deep
Sweet Prometheus, come home
They took away our fire
And all that this scarcity promotes
Is desperate men and tyrants
What fine design
What hands
What minds
The envy of Eden
Our tools and our reason
It's clear in the animals eyes
We stand
Upright
Build fires
At night
Made on the sixth day
To rest on the seventh
And now we just try to survive
The surgeon and farmer meet
And each greets the other with a bow
They're kindred instruments, you know
The scalpel and the plow
In the shadow of the mountain
We work when work abounds
And we wear out all our prayers
When the work runs out

I can't express how loudly I groaned reading this abstract tosh.

I haven't met a locked door yet
That I couldn't beat
On a chain around my neck
I keep my skeleton key

Don't waste your worry on me
I always find what I need
Come and go as I please,
I've got my skeleton key

By now it's just a simple trick
Not much to see
You hear the tumblers catch and click,
Then turn the key
But I've found work and welcome
Everywhere I've been
Cause everyone's got someplace
They wanna be let in

Along the way,
The old men call me by mother's name
She looked just the same, they say
The children wave or hide behind
Their mother's skirts afraid

Strangers here still seem strange
They hear the accent, know
I'm from nowhere near
But I speak the language
And I know the customs here
I come from over the horizon
Pass through every dozen years
Go home, tell of my arrival
The skeleton key's here

Post a good example?

try this album, good entry into folk drone.

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Yeah, but not for the number of unique words. Rap can display more lyrical merit, namely wordplay and forethought, with even downright stupid vocabularies:

Lil B, Fuck Ya Money:
>Sometimes I even think when my life is over
>But I try to not to think about life when I'm sober
>But still my money stretch out like aerobics
The beat even bends over this way, kinda like you're flipping dollar bills in your hand. But then:

Lil B, on Flash, 21 tracks later, through a line which end-rhymed on "back" and then 5 lines that all rhymed with "ask him":
>Optional package, start flashin'
>The Glock touch your head, back like waxin
>The shotty touch your chest, you flip back like aerobics
The way you see him flip back (like the money) in what would otherwise be a violent scene is hilarious. Now it's pretty basic visual comedy compared to what you can do with animation, but it's written in comically simple code. What's a country song joke?

Seen as OP image is shitting on country thought I would post John Prine. Don't know why Google added so much unnecessary punctuation, can't be arsed removing it though.
>Sam Stone
youtu.be/NqVwLLIZOVI

Sam Stone came home,
To the wife and family
After serving in the conflict overseas.
And the time that he served,
Had shattered all his nerves,
And left a little shrapnel in his knees.
But the morphine eased the pain,
And the grass grew round his brain,
And gave him all the confidence he lacked,
With a purple heart and a monkey on his back

There's a hole in daddy's arm where all the money goes,
Jesus Christ died for nothin I suppose.
Little pitchers have big ears,
Don't stop to count the years,
Sweet songs never last too long on broken radios

Sam Stone's welcome home
Didn't last too long.
He went to work when he'd spent his last dime
And soon he took to stealing
When he got that empty feeling
For a hundred dollar habit without overtime.
And the gold roared through his veins
Like a thousand railroad trains,
And eased his mind in the hours that he chose,
While the kids ran around wearin' other peoples' clothes

There's a hole in daddy's arm where all the money goes,
Jesus Christ died for nothin I suppose.
Little pitchers have big ears,
Don't stop to count the years,
Sweet songs never last too long on broken radios

Sam Stone was alone
When he popped his last balloon,
Climbing walls while sitting in a chair.
Well, he played his last request,
While the room smelled just like death,
With an overdose hovering in the air.
But life had lost it's fun,
There was nothing to be done,
But trade his house that he bought on the GI bill,
For a flag-draped casket on a local hero's hill

There's a hole in daddy's arm where all the money goes,
Jesus Christ died for nothin I suppose.
Little pitchers have big ears,
Don't stop to count the years,
Sweet songs never last too long on broken radios

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It's neofolk, but rap is a close second.

based and -dare I say- niggerpilled

Like Luther's army
And Abel's brother
I woke to find
Only to smother
An angel fat at
Satan's feast
Where falsehood, childhood
And loneliness ceased

Delicate like grief
I am rapist, well-healed
Double the echo of silence
Like a dusty dead rose
Contaminate with neglect
Every little heart
Should end up broken
And shrouded by fog

Rap is psychotic word salad like Charles Manson's but given the hypnotic element of African rhythms. Absent fathers dislodge the locus of lit.

One uses proper grammar, doesn't. Guess which one doesn't?

>hypnotic element of African rhythms
what are you? a 1920s plantation-socialite preacher?

>he doesn't perform medieval ballads aloud
At least use a trip so i can know to dismiss your opinions in the future.

>listening to music