“If we don’t get them, they gone get us all! I’m down for running up on them crackers in they city hall. We ride for yall, all my dawgs stay real. Don’t think these records deals, gone feed your seeds and pay your bills, cause they not. MCs get a little bit of love and think they hot. Talking bout how much money they got;
All y’all records sound the same
I’m sick of that fake-thug-R&B-rap-scenario, all day on the radio
Same scenes in the video. Monotonous material. Y’all don’t hear me though
These record labels slang our tapes like dope.You can be next in line and signed and still be writing rhymes and broke. You would rather have a Lexus or justice? A dream or some substance?
A Beamer, a necklace or freedom?
Still a nigga like me don’t playa-hate, I just stay awake. This real hip-hop. And it don’t stop ’til we get the po-po off the block!