The Artist Pays the Price

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8Ball

Eight-ball (also spelled 8-ball or eightball, and sometimes called solids and stripes, spots and stripes or rarely highs and lows) is a discipline of pool played on a billiard table with six pockets, cue sticks, and sixteen billiard balls (a cue ball and fifteen object balls). The object balls include seven solid-colored balls numbered 1 through 7, seven striped balls numbered 9 through 15, and the black 8 ball. After the balls are scattered with a break shot, a player is assigned either the group of solid or striped balls once they have legally pocketed a ball from that group. The object of the game is to legally pocket the 8-ball in a "called" pocket, which can only be done after all of the balls from a player's assigned group have been cleared from the tab… more »

Year:

1998

5:30

105 Views

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#1

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(How do you think it would feel to go around the world in a day?)

[Chorus]
The artist pays the price so you won't have to pay
(Around the world in a day)
If only we would listen to what they have to say
We all go through changes to get to where we're going
We have to learn a life of sacrifice (yeah, yeah, yeah) To keep on growin'

Yeah,
Life is for learnin
Remember this
And learn from life
Think about the players in the past who died in sacrifice
Some died in wars for a country that oppressed them
Some died preachin' prayin' for God to bless them
I am one of the blessed, born to bring the world poetry
Hip-hop, musically' expressing what's inside of me
Some find me entertaining. Some find me marketable.
A potential Black millionaire so that makes me target-able.
Low-life's and fork-tongued devils get easy access.
Flashin' me faces, making empty promises.
Soggy niggas sign contracts and make deals,
Rappin' bout who they killed,
Talking bout they keeping it real.
Hardcore homicidal, kingpins of the century
Need to quit rappin' and leave this shit to the real M-C's.
But ain't no chance
Opposing forces got the upper hand.
Do as they command to keep them from suffering.

[Chorus]

See, I don't know everything
But my opinion I will voice
As long as I can choose
I'll choose the right or the wrong choice.
Addicted to Hip-hop beats
And hoes that can't stay out the streets.
Tryin' to make a dollar 
Without a nigga havin' to rob and cheat.
Got me hustling
twenty-four-seven,
Three-sixty-five
Coast to coast
Mic-checkin'
Keeping the party alive
Engrave my name in the minds of those
Who bob to this
Slang and rob to this
Jack and rob to this
Herbs and meditation made a pill when I put it down
But individual perception will change each phrase around
Different towns
Ain't none of this shit like Orange Mound
Players unified, digging on my mellow sound
Exec's
Get big ole fat checks
For makin' deals
While soldiers like me in the fields
Down there getting killed
When this is all over
If I could do it again, I do it twice
Before and after me, the artist will always pay the price

[Chorus]

The industry
Full of broke niggas tryin' to make a comeback
Rappin' bout that bullshit
Over them weak-ass tracks
Judging me
When around the globe, ain't nothing the same
Think how the world would be if none of this hit had ever changed
Ain't like it used to be when hip-hop belonged to you and me
Shit got sugar coated' modified for tv
Niggas like me, don't give a f*ck about commercial air time
Forced underground, ain't nothing commercial bout my rhymes
Rather be broke or slinging dope than hold my tongue back
Niggas who put on acts get they ass beat up and jacked
I'm not a killer' just a poet tryin to survive, nigga
Given the choice to ride or die, I chose to ride, nigga
I'm paying the price for all the real M-C's after me
Be a artist, not a slave for the industry
I'm paying the price for all the real M-C's after me
Be a artist, not a slave for the industry

[Chorus]

Full of them trees
On them Hennesy's
Fuckin' with them G's

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