Demise Of Da Industry

So you want to be a rapper, right Look, are you ready to sell your soul for a few pennies to the dollar Cause that's all your worth to the companies anyway Uh, but you still want to be a rapper Listen up. Let me tell you something Look, half of these rappers is actors to me You can hear it on the tracks when they speak This rap shit ain't what it's cracked up to be Shit, if I ain't felt it, smelt it or dealt it You wouldn't hear it on a record, check it I remember way back in a time When niggas signed on the line & didn't worry bout dying Nowadays shit that you say can get you two from the waist Cause real recognize real, the fake portray it on tapes So keep your spitting your eights, hooks & sixteens And keep waiting on them crooks to sell you a fake dream I done dealt with the game: Poli-tricks & DJ's In these days, niggas don't give a f*ck bout what we say Look, I ain't saying no names, but one day we was at a station And my sister called the great one to give us congratulations Whether hating or misplacement, thinking the shit was okay The DJ couldn't get the bit to play And that's fucked up Don't get it confused, I ain't one of them dudes Foolish to sell my soul for a couple cars & some jewels Excuse me if I get to deep, exposing rules once told to me Open your eyes and see... The demise of the industry Don't get it confused, I ain't one of them dudes Foolish to sell my soul for a couple cars & some jewels Excuse me if I get to deep, exposing rules once told to me The industry ain't what it used to be! Sit back & listen carefully I ain't one of these little rappers out screaming I need a deal I'm one of the realest niggas that spit it & got it for real Y'all need to get y'all shit straight, cause after one mixtape Got niggas in different states listening for a release date I ain't a rapper, I'm a flower Take control of my pen and let it go No holding back, nobody holding my hand Nobody showing my when to say this, that & the other No brother hovering on my back or over my shoulder F*ck a marketing plan, couple of G's will get me over I'm my own man, don't need the industry for this soldier This composer's double-dosage Poses threats to those who come too close You hoes approach me hopelessly for dough You know the answer, please Chief on some doja & compose up Some of the illest lines you'll ever find So keep one eye on the road & the other eye on rewind In due time, you'll come to find what's pumping out your Alpine Will be the realest spitten lines ever written in rhyme, listen Don't get it confused, I ain't one of them dudes Foolish to sell my soul for a couple cars & some jewels Excuse me if I get to deep, exposing rules once told to me Open your eyes and see... The demise of the industry Don't get it confused, I ain't one of them dudes Foolish to sell my soul for a couple cars & some jewels Excuse me if I get to deep, exposing rules once told to me The industry ain't what it used to be! Sit back & listen carefully