Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song At What Cost?, artist - Grip. Date of issue: 26.08.2021
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
At What Cost? |
| There’s some confusion about nooses |
| Guess our lessons ain’t been learned |
| There’s a contusion in our music |
| Guess our trauma our ain’t been |
| I realize my sacrifice |
| Don’t mean shit to my masters burn |
| All of this shit down to the ground |
| Until ownership gets its turn |
| We been rapping for pennies for half of a century |
| Laughing to mask the fact that I’m basking in envy |
| Mastered the craft now they use my masters against me |
| Advance me some cash after taxes I’m practically empty |
| Slowly losing my passion the path of an emcee |
| Got me gasping passing the Henny and grasping the semi |
| Niggas think cause I dropped a classic I’m doing better |
| Like I got a slew of cheddar |
| If only you knew my thoughts of pursuing a new endeavor |
| They saying Grip you can’t give up on the music never |
| I quit is something you could never say |
| It’s funny, they act like I just started rapping yesterday |
| Fact of the matter is, you niggas just started pressing play |
| I met a man who’s pupils were dollar signs |
| He made a deal that promised I won’t be forgot in time |
| But here’s the catch |
| Every single rhyme you jot is mine, not a problem, fine |
| Just put your name on this dotted line |
| There’s some confusion about nooses |
| Guess our lessons ain’t been learned |
| There’s a contusion in our music |
| Guess our trauma our ain’t been |
| I realize my sacrifice |
| Don’t mean shit to my masters burn |
| All of this shit down to the ground |
| Until ownership gets its turn |
| Product of the madness sold as product to the masses |
| From poverty we bastards so we flashing in high fashion |
| Never learned cash money so when earned cash money |
| We burned cash money, ghetto stars turned crash dummies |
| In foreign cars, that’s leased and Audemars with links |
| We had to buss down for all them times a nigga had to bus it |
| Spent like half the budget to put some gas in the bucket |
| Down to your last like fuck it if I was a lad who’s dad had duckets |
| Would I give this biz the green light |
| If I knew the words I sing might put me on a string like puppets |
| Controlled by japeto from ghetto to ghetto |
| Kiss your hood goodbye and tell Hollywood hello |
| But old habits die hard and where I’m from we die young |
| Cause we can’t let bygones be bygones so we buy guns |
| And when you caught slipping, they gone make a killing off your killing |
| And the cycle continues for your children, damn |
| There’s some confusion about nooses |
| Guess our lessons ain’t been learned |
| There’s a contusion in our music |
| Guess our trauma our ain’t been |
| I realize my sacrifice |
| Don’t mean shit to my masters burn |
| All of this shit down to the ground |
| Until ownership gets its turn |