I Hate the Rap Industry!

(Nocturne) (Johnny Cooked) (May Sora have the glory) I'm gettin' really sick of all this underground rap shit Underground rappers always staring like you competition even though we all got the same mission We all just wanna make it, god damnit it's crazy Ain't nobody finna have your back when you need it Ain't nobody finna be there when you bleedin' Ain't nobody gonna be there when you fallin' Ain't nobody gonna be there Now beware from the snakes there's a lot of 'em Always runnin' rampant you can see the pride on 'em You can see how their ego's their passion They don't like the music they just want the bag They don't get the numbers Don't understand rhythm, they think that the game is a whole bunch of tags But I know how to get it I just need that boost cause I'm getting so tired of all of these fags A whole bunch of rappers be chanting 'bout how they got heart And how "this just the start" But hearts ain't bulletproof, nigga you better be holdin' your guard Or I'm comin' right through and I'm stealing the stars They wanted "old Sora" I'm givin' her to em Like "tenga, señora, pero tenga cuidado" You really don't know me I'm shooting this fuego my patience is bajo Escucha ahora Keep callin' me carried I don't need a feature I been spittin' gospel like mughfuckin preachers Yeah leave me alone bitch I'll treat ya like Reacher Can't hang with me loser you poverty written And all of you artists ain't with the religion It can't be forgiven you not in the vision Not in my division cause money I'm driven hoe No competition I aim with precision I'm burning bridges down I got too famous I lost feelings now I don't remember how I got here got me sayin' "wow" It got me prayin' loud I'm playin pieces with the algorithm look, my numbers wild I got the cheat codes, beat those, like NBA free throws Sneak hoes, photoshop delete those, you'on need those All these crazy bitches tryna kill me All these other rappers full of envy But they never gonna come in and deceive me