Lyrics Worth More Dead - K Rino

Worth More Dead

You want fame don’t you?
But chasing the majors the wrong move
It’s a known rule, sign a contract, they own you
You thinking because you, give’em hits they love you
Inside of the clutches of the machine they plug you
It’s more than the paper with your name on the a dotted line
Anytime that they get you to sign it’s a plot in mind
They try to find naive artist and hand em
Contracts so complex only they understand em
Built to destroy ya, you can’t afford a lawyer
So they offer to manage you and handle your buisness for ya
What was the price?
You thinking you covered for life
But they suckered you for your royalties and publishing rights
They got millions in hand while you living in dream land
Went platinum and only got paid 15 grand
Didn’t understand that they profit whatever you speak
It’s a devilish beast controlling the level you reach
They want your masters
They want your name
Now all you work to build up is gone in flames
They want your publishing and mechanical rights
And when they finish using you they want your life
The day you awaken and learn the business they panic
And blackball you because this industry is satanic
And you can’t even capitalize on your fame
Cuz the paper work explains that they own your name
Your catalog was strong, now it’s gone in smoke
All your blood, sweat and years, every song you wrote
Belongs to a goat worshiper whose thrones a joke
His family eats 20 generations long, you broke
They let you rise nation wide and international fast
Your assets accumulate past your actual cash
The fans love you, so you still selling out shows
You expose that they was the people and tell them 'bout those
So the momentum grows, open eyes no longer closed
A wise artist threatens their power, influence imposed
So now they know that the only road and option to go
Is to eliminate the icon and triple the dough
They want your masters
They want your name
Now all you work to build up is gone in flames
They want your publishing and mechanical rights
And when they finish using you they want your life
This ain’t practice dude, never get your facts confused
Resync your relationship between blacks and jews
Manipulation of artists is a classic move
And a few material objects distracts the fool
Only a devil would scheme and not give me my green
That’s why Michael Jackson called out Jimmy Iovine
His words were too extreme so they had to solve that
Mike was killed then Sony got the catalog back
The record company gets every dime that’s made
And gets paid for every song every time it’s played
It’s a war, why you thinkin it’s only coincidence
It happened to Sam Cooke, Jimi Hendrixs and Prince
Any artist with a free mind who fought for their work
Was strategically plotted on and eventually murked
When you control your art, they attack and assault
Who gunna end up with the music Prince had in his vault?
The music outlives the artist, and the truth is the truth
After they kill’em, then the record sales shoot through the roof
Digital, physical sell’in fast, with foot on the gas
Eternal cash and dead artist, K put’em on blast
They want your masters
They want your name
Now all you work to build up is gone in flames
They want your publishing and mechanical rights
And when they finish using you they want your life