Kamikaze - Mysterious Business lyrics

[Verse 1 - Sleepy Will] I'm leanin' back/ Thinkin' bout the game/ tryna stay ahead/ Of constant change/ Was a young n*gga/ Just like you/ Immo sell this dope, f** hoes and rap too/ It ain't hard, make a million dollars off a verse/ buy that Maybach, supply the whole hood wit work/ They don't don't tal about it/ This just entertainment/ Yeah, it's all for show/ Most of these n*ggas famous ain't never seen a reignment/ N*ggas like you and me/ We don't get them placements on MTV/ That's just how it is/ Well you just independent/ f** what them haters say/ N*gga, I'm still the business/ I put in work/ From the crack of dawn/ To the crack of dawn/ For the perfect song/ Most of y'all n*ggas ain't never put it work/ Never hit the block/ And made them feet work/ If it was that easy, we'd all be rich/ Expensive taste/ Exotic b**h/ It's all politics/ A f**in' campaign/ Turn on the radio, the f**in' same names/ Original?/ What the f** is that?/ It's all format/ With corporate cashin' checks/ What happened to the vets?/ Never had a mentor/ To guide me down the path/ So I live by the sword [Verse 2 - Kamikaze] I hate rappers/ there I said it/ So don't be actin' like we cordial, all copacetic/ Telekinesis says you “meeses” are simply pathetic/ I don't play favorites, anybody that's spittin' can get it/ You factory/ Straight off a**embly lines/ You're double-faulted with them corny a** wimbledon rhymes/ Dancin' like an extra, Michael Jackson's Remember The Time/ probably why you wack and why ya pockets are slimmer than mine/ Oh, it's about the lyrics?/ It's not about the cheese?/ Them why you up on iTunes, tryna sell us cds?/ Peddlin' ya merchandise, talkin' bout all ya degrees/ You tryna get rich off of raps, just like all of the G's/ And all of the playas/ And all of the thugs/ And all them cats that's talkin' ‘bout trappin' and sellin' them d**/ Ya sweater's too tight, ya jeans are uncomfortably snug/ I'm Posdonous with a pistol, you rappers get plugged/ One [Verse 3 - 7even] I feel like giving up/ My temper s**s/ If you didn't know that, you didn't know me that well, listen up/ Sometimes I get kinda tired of re-writin' lines and/ Gettin' caught up in this hype and trying to survive in/ A game where a million other n*ggas do what you do and they all claimin' that they hot sh**/ What makes you the top pick?/ Let ‘em know yo name/ Make ‘em respect yo gangsta/ Stay “piece”/ But keep bangers in the chamber/ f** the rest/ Always out-do ya best/ And when you write, try to master saying more wit less/ See, rappers want for n*ggas to caress on they finesse/ But see they all got ghost-writers/ I guess they just possessed/ N*ggas turn to gods/ They record sold the best, but if you asked what's on they mind, they never speak in golden text/ I give a f** about a viewers' choice/ ‘Cause all I view is moist/ No need to speak further to prove a point/ Yo main concern is giving yo'self the extra push, Ju/ Mastering your craft/ And push back when they push you/ Gone ‘head, let a hater talk, you need them n*ggas too/ ‘Cause they ain't gone be sh** anyway/ Too busy focused on what you do/ Keep the needle in the groove/ When you need to stick a move to MC's/ Strike ‘em in the heart, twist ya wrist and pull/ That's just some sh** that you would do if you was me/ Biggest question you should ask is, “would you do this sh** for free?”