Look at this spontaneous generation that we live in The pieces of meats are invested with maggots Everybody wants to be an MC to walk the course to infamy So what makes me different? I engrave the meaning of lyricism with the ink I make you question your beliefs and what you think But what do I think about the industry It's humiliating My ears bleed at the pitches Put a melody with a catchy hook and you got a hit Hip hop and rap took a wrong turn At the intersection There's no return If you pull a u You're left with impostors Half of these artists say they belong Babbling meaningless verses and releasing them as songs Where's the pa**ion? The visceral messages? All we hear are beats with ba** and styles that have been ripped-off I got no intention to follow the crowd I confirm my wording is prestige With every question I answer there's another theory to teach Ill never besiege to an ariste who uses uniform rhyme schemes Brainwashing kids to think the material on their CD's is music All ladies gotta do is show their cleavage and cheeks Sing a little and they'll get a record deal by the end of the week I'm not advocating myself as flawless I'm knocking sense into your conscience Burned out from today's gen like Californians in August Anyone can be a rapper but it takes sk** to be a lyricist But the question that lingers is what separates me from everybody? That's for you to decide I can say how dope I'll be How lyrically precise I am I can repeat and preach how I'll take over the game and how popular I'll become If I did that I'd be dumb I gotta release impacting quality And not sellout to the mainstream The subjects I discuss isn't on the radio Been sober my whole life, responsible for the most I don't rap about money, cars and hoes There's the synopsis But it's impossible to make it when thousands are claiming they the next pac and nas How can the world take these artists serious when they're absolute laughing stocks?
This game is like a kid picking up a basketball saying he's the next goat The same goes for punks who grab a microphone Saying they got the goods Money, links, and from the hood Others in the studio believing their records a hit Thinking It'll smash the market That's the objective of everyone who wants to be famous Then they throw away their motives the minute they start exploding We're all soldiers in this battlefield of the rap game Trying to make our own name Making a change to our lives Become role models and global sensation overnight So what makes you think you're the one that artists will appeal to? What do you bring to the table? Are you capable? Can you bring something new or are you gonna mimic methods and styles? Will you be another pollutant causing this mortifying music movement Or will you be a fresh breathe that the population will love and spread throughout the environs? A kid who can rap There's surfeits like that Odds stacked against your back Make the opinions you have about your self a fact Make an impact that can't be retraced when your presence is erased This is an all out war I hope you're ready There's a one and million chance and people think they're that one Wanting grands for lyrics and beats that are bland With these artist making it You question the supply and demand Me vs everybody A hypocrite with vital anecdotes Take notes or else you won't know the secrets Survival of the fittest is the motto in the business It's vacuous That's your biggest weakness Seems like my rhymes are jargons And everyone is just garbage Mainstream trends Money over friends Music about having it your way and making millions All these wastes of oxygen should be given to me cuz when I hit my peak I'll surpa** Everest The rappers do nothing but embarra** I can't bare these f**s They don't give a sh** about us I'm done