[Verse 1]
I spit for the cabbage, grind with a mission
And put Capitol Records in missionary positions
Used to love H.E.R. like Common, but then you get signed
(Behind the Music) now I just fuck the music from behind
They wanna know how it feels, locked on penitentiary tiers
Shit, I was locked down on Priority for eight years
At least I got good time, half time in
Now it's halftime, I'm kicking ether like Nasir
Not here to be liked, came to redefine control of a mic
Y'all still stoning prophets in spite
Not phased with my spot in the light, let you tell it
Ras bitter and jealous, no I'm just better a spitter
They try to paint my LP's as mistakes, tell me
How you judge the greatest by how many records are sold
I've got no regrets for the records I make
How can I disown my own soul?
This childhood hobby, adult hustle
Don't respect the God, mother made you motherfuck you
My {?} gospel pull video of the year, presented to you
I'm stuck in a contract, no medical or dental boo
I'm miserable, y'all niggas think it's all gravy?
Stunt 'til they pay me, and I don't give a fuck
If I sold one or one million, but I see you do
Only good as your last record, bad first week you're through
Music is a business and the business of business is to make money
Creativity, they take from me
I never flopped, I just stayed hip-hop
When y'all hijacked rap music, crashed into pop
Watch dudes go plat', and overnight hot
Then every clown run to use the same producer he got
And now your song ain't a hit if so-and-so ain't make the beat
Same dickriders used to say that nigga's beats weak
Just Blaze said it best - collabo's happen now
For strategy and marketing, niggas only doing features
If your SoundScan sparkling
No more magic, pullin my leg like Go Go Gadget
I spit for the cabbage, grind with a mission
And put Capitol Records in missionary positions
Used to love H.E.R. like Common, but then you get signed
(Behind the Music) now I just fuck the music from behind
They wanna know how it feels, locked on penitentiary tiers
Shit, I was locked down on Priority for eight years
At least I got good time, half time in
Now it's halftime, I'm kicking ether like Nasir
Not here to be liked, came to redefine control of a mic
Y'all still stoning prophets in spite
Not phased with my spot in the light, let you tell it
Ras bitter and jealous, no I'm just better a spitter
They try to paint my LP's as mistakes, tell me
How you judge the greatest by how many records are sold
I've got no regrets for the records I make
How can I disown my own soul?
This childhood hobby, adult hustle
Don't respect the God, mother made you motherfuck you
My {?} gospel pull video of the year, presented to you
I'm stuck in a contract, no medical or dental boo
I'm miserable, y'all niggas think it's all gravy?
Stunt 'til they pay me, and I don't give a fuck
If I sold one or one million, but I see you do
Only good as your last record, bad first week you're through
Music is a business and the business of business is to make money
Creativity, they take from me
I never flopped, I just stayed hip-hop
When y'all hijacked rap music, crashed into pop
Watch dudes go plat', and overnight hot
Then every clown run to use the same producer he got
And now your song ain't a hit if so-and-so ain't make the beat
Same dickriders used to say that nigga's beats weak
Just Blaze said it best - collabo's happen now
For strategy and marketing, niggas only doing features
If your SoundScan sparkling
No more magic, pullin my leg like Go Go Gadget
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