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