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(Verse 1) |
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Hey yo it's funny nowadays how these fools see rap |
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As a Road to the Riches like Kool G Rap |
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And most people see me and think "Damn, not again |
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They signed another guy who's a friend of Eminem" |
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But you put me in a booth to the crowds disbelief |
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That if I spit the illest I'm keeping all my teeth |
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Then bite your style and feed you the feces |
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You've been shoving down the throats of these folks with CD's |
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And believe that I can be dropped just like that |
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And be right back working a job I might slack at |
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I can't do it fuck it |
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I'd rather show you that I love it with a bullshit budget |
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These cats walk around iced out with gunclaps |
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And no cash in a corner of fools with dunce caps |
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And dumb rap on how you're a star whatever yo |
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You ain't shit without approval from Thom Panunzio |
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(Chorus) |
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Renting all your fancy clothes |
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That ain't your car in the videos |
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Trying to be gangsta |
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You ain't no superstar... |
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Your jewelry ain't fooling me |
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Don't give a fuck about V.I.P |
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Trying to be gangsta |
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You ain't no superstar... |
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(Verse 2) |
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See I blew my advance on a truck and Desert Eagle |
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Cause image isn't nothing it doesn't measure ego |
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Plus wherever we go we might get into trouble |
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I haven't made enough to afford a body double |
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Cats get some duckets and worry about wheels |
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Instead of saying something with meaning that really feels |
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Love all the glamour to me it's all glitz |
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But the music that they make in the back is all shit |
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For me don't roll out the red carpet |
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I wouldn't even know how to act in that department |
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This game is fucked for sure and by far |
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Topics for the songs are made up by A & R's |
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(whew! That's banging!...Thanks man...We should get J. Lo on the remix!) |
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If my album doesn't sell good for Jimmy Iovine |
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I'll be inside a bank screaming give me all the green |
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(Chorus) |
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(Verse 3) |
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These rappers pose like models in every head shot |
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But they've blown every chance like the Boston Red Sox |
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Get a deal throw it away in 1 instance |
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I got my shit together forever keep your distance |
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I'd rather have a will in the bank and be respected |
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You think I need to spend me a mil to be accepted |
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Forget where you're from and you can't go back |
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Can't show you still got it like an old throwback |
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At a bar chicks think you're slick with quick winks |
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In return they reply to you back and give blinks |
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Til you walk up on my crew with mixed drinks |
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(Have you listened to my album?) yeah your shit stinks |
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No subjects no skills and no spirit |
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Mink coats iced out chains and no lyrics |
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Acting in this business like y'all pitched in |
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And not a modern day baller like Paul Fishkin |
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(Chorus) |
