This is dedicated to the MC
That struggles with the funds and
Most of his shows
You can count the crowd on one hand
He's straight up... every tune that he's played he wrote
But barely even gets played on community radio
And he ain't got a label
He rolls solo
Pressing up his own shit
And doing his own promo
He holds no dough
Like an old hobo
They think he's so loco
But oh no, no
He's like a lone photo
That wont give up through any turn of the wether
Even though the road is slow
He's still determined as ever
Until he's churning out chedder
Because his flow is butter
He gotta get exposed
Like he needs to blow his cover
They start to feel his vibe
Because his rhyming is hot
So the deal arives
And he just signs on the dot
It started so simply
All about the words that you say
But now there's jerks that are payed
Off his works that are played
And he ain't getting shit
Just a few perks of the trade
He sees the real industry
And what lurks in the shade
Cus everything he worked for
The struggle to build
The love and the skill
Ain't worth shit next to a couple of mil
So he sits back
Feels lame, jaded and old
The games taking its toll
The fames raping his soul
Of the industry
Cus they forgot this was art
The aim was breaking the mold
Not trying to fit the part
But if he spits it smart
He can hit the heart
He's only got one dart
And he ain't gonna miss the mark
Creative control
Only a few who have found
Completely credible music
But with that lucrative sound
Its goes
Lights, camera, action, your on son
you wanna rhyme
but are you in it for the long run?
Cus you dream about platinum on this mic
Best wake the fuck up
It don't happen over night
Its goes
Lights, camera, action, your on son
you wanna rhyme
but are you in it for the long run?
Cus you dream about platinum on this mic
Best wake the fuck up
It don't happen over night
you aren't exposed
to what your contract shows
In fine print
They gotta get back every cent you spent
The mainstream made fresh
with a grain of salt now
This is dedicated to the MC
Who lives in the spot light
Teeth shown from hunger
Like dogs in a cock fight
There frightened by his freedom
So they call the police
But he's the one who wakes you up
When you fallin' asleep
That kid with an idea
Who catches the bus
Who writes life through his eyes
That's attached to a brush
And he paints the world
Exactley how he sees it
And if rhyming is a secret
I don't know how he keeps it
But believe me its some deep shit
And these kids all relate
You cant see it
But you feel it like a kick to the face
And when he grows up, shit
So will his rhymes
Time after time, again
He'll keep blowing your mind
His flow is divine
Just a young buck with a curse
He sets fire to a...with a couple of words
Hes out for the cause
Man he's out there on tours
Tryin' to visit your town
There's no bringing him down
So, get ready for the ride of your life
Tryin'ta maintain, but have a slice of the pie
It's a damn shame that their life has a price
But they can't touch me, or tell me what to rhyme on this mic
So I rhyme what I like
Trying to bring that love back
wild, and young at heart
like a rugrat
Still walking in the club packed
Yellin' WHERE THE BUD AT!
Living like the underdog, who promised that he'd come back
Its goes
Lights, camera, action, your on son
you wanna rhyme
but are you in it for the long run?
Cus you dream about platinum on this mic
Best wake the fuck up
It don't happen over night
Its goes
Lights, camera, action, your on son
you wanna rhyme
but are you in it for the long run?
Cus you dream about platinum on this mic
Best wake the fuck up
It don't happen over night
You think you gonna become an MC over night
You Better snap out that fucking dream
Man it takes years for this