| Listen to me good
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| The artist is the most important person
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| You are the feature
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| People listen to you, they don’t listen to their preachers
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| Exaggerated tales of hustlin'
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| We quick to pass judgment and fail our brothers
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| Instead of talkin' 'bout Lauryn Hill, talk about Lauryn’s skill
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| Truth be told there may never be a girl as ill
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| Don’t gossip 'bout Dame Dash, give props to Dame hand
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| For the rise of Jay and for signin' Kanye, man (you know what I’m sayin'?)
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| Niggas is crazy that’s why we ain’t got shit
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| Rappers hate each other not the labels that got rich
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| Don’t care about culture they only want profit
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| If your album sells slow bet you get dropped quick
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| Q-Tip warned us the industry’s toxic
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| For reference check out B.D.P — Sex and Violence (brrrrrah!!)
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| Styles made I Get High, it was playin' all day
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| When Styles made I’m Black, it didn’t get enough play (WORD!)
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| I guess they got a problem with anything positive
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| Doesn’t make sense if it doesn’t bring dollars in
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| Those that managed us
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| Those that were our agents
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| Those that were our accountants
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| Those that were the records executives
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| Those that were the owners of the record label
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| You never got true accounting for nothing that you did
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| What’s the difference between a label and pimpin'?
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| You sell yourself, they tell you how to spend it
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| Ho ass niggas slow down, listen
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| Pimps prey on minds with no ambition
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| They keep you fly — image is promotion
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| They keep you high, so a nigga isn’t focused
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| You livin' in a moment, feeling yourself
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| They livin' in plush homes, what’s really success?
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| And what’s swag? |
| I don’t care how you dress
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| Or what you drive, I want rhymes that really impress
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| You say it’s all about money, do you even invest?
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| Any time in your rhymes, let me guess
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| You so nice you don’t write it just comes to you
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| 'Cause you the shit — nah, you just doo-doo
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| I’ll lyrically abuse any rapper who choose to
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| Step to me, I will bring it right to you!
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| Who do you think you are?
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| To them you are nothing but a piece of meat
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| And you are only as valuable as your last hit song
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| And when you make no more hit songs
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| Nobody cares for you no more
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| Men lie, women lie, numbers can be altered
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| To look high, shareholders hate takin' losses
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| This is business, they don’t care about your lyrics
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| The better you sell, the better future for their children
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| Controversy sells so they support conflict
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| Makes more progress means more profit
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| And artists get killed they say they so sorry
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| Meanwhile they tell you the date of his next project
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| What a life, death made it more profit
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| Record companies get paid for your drama
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| And Beef DVD is on BET
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| So every artist who was on it was beefin' for free
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| While the royalties are going to QD3
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| He Quincy Jones son, what he know about beef?
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| No disrespect intended, I know he got beats
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| But it’s deep how the rich get paid off our grief
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| And every one of our great artists they die — with nothing
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| And the record company executives were rich, sending their kids to college
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| You’re not stupid — you are brilliant
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| But the question is: can you put your brilliance in a song?
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| Can you put the conditions of the world in a song and inspire young people all
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| over the world? |