[Verse 1]
The hottest God, [?], don't gotta try
I'm so effortless that my effort has now been all forgot
And off the top, I'm not looking for a deal
I'm aware that Hip-Hop is now terminally ill
I permanently will try to heal all wounds
Sharp music they can feel until they feel harpooned in
Radio spin it, I'm a star to them then
They won't ride? Then I carpool them in
I let it ride mane, I'm in the H-O-V
We can't use her unless we sell her as a H-O-E
Nobody cares what a woman gotta say
Unless she wearing double D's, throwing nookie in your face
And nothing gon' shake unless the oven gon' bake
Fresh goodies for their eyes, she's adored by the guys
Don't write her own rhymes, nor control her own mind
So when the look is out of style, her sales going down
[Verse 2]
And it ain't been the same since the Payola take over
My music made the inventory but they soon erased over it
Like hey, we from Sony, man, here's some money all day
We want our songs played, who the fuck is Wale?
He ain't signed, y'all, he won't shine, y'all
And by the way, my art is finna drop and fold
Here's the G flex, please drop a couple bombs
'Cause when they hear it those weak n— is gon' follow 'long
Fuck if the hood love it, we want the 'burbs, brother
The white kids like this so we get platinum numbers
We use exaggerated, over-done images
Of black men and women, they love it so we can benefit
Since '93, everybody from the streets went from
Rhyming on peace to throwing diamonds in your piece
It's 5% beats, 5% lyrics, it's 90% money
This rapping is now a business
[Verse 3]
Nowadays it's profitable to sign an artist or two
Who have been shot, stabbed, or in the box for a few
Now I've been locked up a few times but I won't glorify it
Especially for an image, when they listen they gon' buy it
I'm probably biased 'cause I'm tired of overthugging
We know about your keys and how you willing to get it thumpin'
Heard about the D's and how they follow your every moment
You the coldest killer according to your label, brother
I'm not the marketable type that'll start a fight
Take it to the guns and rap it on track one
Like I've seen 'em, I've done 'em
I beat 'em, I cut 'em
I did it for nothing
But guess what? The city is buzzin'
'Cause I wasn't sure if my shit was gonna sell
Fuck a radio tour, I'll do better from a jail
So as the clock tickens, watch the plot thicken
Concentrate less on your music and work on your politickin'
Lyrics provided by