Stupid producers These stupid producers "Yo, what's up my main man? What's your name? I heard you got beats Yea, I hear what you're saying, but are they flames? You got a card or something? Put your number on this CD, I'll give you a call or something How long you in town? Where you staying at now? Who's your manager? Him over there? The n***a with the South Pole sweatsuit and permed hair? Listen, don't even trip I just want some beats to finish my sh** I'm looking for some hard sh** Yea, like some Beat Brokers or Mark Sparks sh** Huh? Play what? Hold up, lay what? Yo relax my main man, I'ma call you, peace" I got back to the crib, popped in the CD And turned it up loud to see if he had some real beats I heard something I felt, I hit the n***a on the cell To see if it was for sell "Yo, can I speak to DJ Yo, I'm feeling tracks two and six Whatever, bottom line, you give me the tracks, I give you the cheddar We can do it around ten PM In the studio off of [?]" At that point, I didn't even feel like answering him
Stupid a** motherf**ing producer got me real upset And I even got to work with him yet I showed up at ten thirty so I was already late He showed up after me and forgot to bring his own D.A.T. tapes He shook my hand, with both of his hands And told me he could play it over again, with both of his friends Yo, as long as I get tracks two and six I don't give a f** who really produced this sh** Just do this sh** When I get back, I want it laid Yea, you gonna get paid I'ma leave, jump in the car, speed, go to my mans Get some trees, get something to eat, and I'll be back by three" These stupid producers "Hold up, five hours later, you ain't laid nothing? Not one piece of percussion? You mean to tell me you ain't press one bu*ton? You think this is motherf**ing pre-production or something? You know we ain't got a budget, who told you to order lunch, b**h? You know what? f** it. I don't even want it no more Cause the track you selling me probably ain't even yours" These stupid producers Yo, yo Ayo Rip, motherf**er