Lyrics:
sling with Trisha, but she think that it's a date
Early presidential, but it's punchin' in your face
I put diamonds in my mouth, now I'm talkin' outta
an dope, wit there noses drove when I focus,
the de-infected brain cells, lay by the thousands,
the music them hittin shown to be known to livin in
Don't you pay no mind if it's feeling wrong.
Just close your eyes and make-believe and play along.
Because the biz loves sluts.
Chocolate cinnamon
the lesson to learn-ah
Way to get started in the music biz
Just listen to the story as I tell it like it is
I was a youngster from East Junior High School
to make these crackers richer
But u too blinded by the light to even get the picture
Now I ain't saying if he ain't doing don't get ya paper
But understand
he got his hands in our music biz
Told me to ignore the war and the poor
Aim my music more towards the whores and drug lords
And the fans are pourin'
was
People wey know the real struggle mi feel
A people like squid and cuz
This music biz is like a battle to me
So much fucking hatred and grudge
When I'm at the crib
Other times
I'm like I'm out
Gotta handle biz
Bout this music
Want it to be the way a nigga live
Told her that I'm back on my shit
gettin' that degree at Stanford or Harvard
Threatened by my work ethic, the way I speak, yo
Should I be mentally weak, verse being Malik
Yo, should I be
that is the industry's offended
When I made your labels dusted by a fucking independent.
Strange music, dude, fuck if you believe in it.
Don't know
the back
He was the one who placed the knife in Brutus fist
Now he got his hands in our music biz
Told me to ignore the war and the poor
Aim my music
u*, blow your back out
You bad mouth, make 'em all believers
Throwing rocks from a glass house, y'all ain't perfect either
See that c***** and that
freak
Got my kids in her mouth she can’t speak
Roll a blunt while my shawty asleep and it’s back to my biz'cause
I’ve been losing my mind yeah
I’ve been
It's allright
It's okey
Life is how you make it
So they say
It's allright
It's okey
Life is what you make it
So they say
It's allright
It's
is
Well fitted clean cut prepared to handle ya biz
This that, music that love you with flow as wet as a bubble
Got the diamond encrusted with Stacy
rhythm in the static of your samples
Quick to make you move to my groove as I sooth
The ear of the listener on the musical
Prisoner G, now you're free
eating shrimps, locing with some real pimps (yeah).
So peep game, best believe I love my peeps
that's why I make the type of music you can pump in your
You dudes peak too early like Biakabutuka
I share rhyme in the sewer
Pepe Le Pew my music
You ain't the reason why they came
Like the fries at hooters
holding the power like Quill
I be holding power but I'm stoned off my mind
Time is strange
I get high by the hour
Feel the feeling
Yeah it's savoury
My mouth no fit talk
For this music biz I no fit give up
That na why I steady dey look up to God O
To God O for even if e dey dark
Baba God go show me
human feelings (huh)
Got a murder on my belt, it's holdin' up my denim (it's Gucci)
I'm keepin' the feds out my biz, you tryna put 'em in 'em (racks)
doin it to
Lay up, lay back, in my room with a view
Wanna handle my biz on the low, keep it respectable
Make my music, keep it professional
I know
Trying to mess up the biz like an MP3
American Idols, that's who I look for
In the poop section of my local record store
Ruben or Clay, oh which should I
and make a six
Im more like seven
that completion biz
If I start some shit
imma finish it,
And if I don’t start it
imma still finish
Imma overachieve
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