They Don't Know

[Intro]

Machine Shop...Invasion!

Shout out all my people up at Warner Brothers

Naim, Daniel, Tick...Tom Whalley, what up?

All my Machine Shop Staff, Dave Parker, Whitney...

[Tak]

Put any other crew in his place

I could tell ‘em how much I love it ‘til I’m blue in the face

But they don’t know, swimming in the surface of a tough gutter

Smothered by the pillowcase, serving in the Dust Brothers

Dangling my keys to apartments

Fell short, my only furniture was carpet

And Hell’s torch seemed to be the light of my future

An echo in my head saying ‘I might as well shoot ya!’

Soul for profit, ghosts and goblins

I wanna croak, or overdose on Klonopins

My bones malnourished like they able to snap

And while I’m scraping them scraps, the label collapsed

Dough shit...getting ambushed by the lynch mob

And I don’t have a choice but to stick with a temp job

Count pages as days go slow

Thinking to myself ‘Damn!’ They don’t know...

[Scratch Hook]

“Check out the story...It’s on now

Survival got me buggin, but I’m alive

Check out the story...’Make a quick money grip, 'fore yo ass is out”

[Verse 2: Ryu]

Where the check is, what’s for breakfast

Lunch out of the question, a buck we stretch it

Listen to the growl, the pain’s relentless

All the change in my couch ain’t enough to pay rent with

I wanna get the mailman, and shatter his jaw

What kind of punk brings bills with a stack of catalogs?

The irony’s insane, entirely twisted

Got the fly gold chain, but no pot to piss in

What a shame, why do we rhyme, the game is fixed

The only people getting paid is the label--Shit

The slavery ship has landed, it’s not just blacks now

‘Cuz anybody that raps, gets shackled

One style fits all, you wish you signed that big deal

But you don’t see a dime, until you sell like six mil

Now you can do big things but straight up though

Go and ask ‘em where your money’s at...they don’t know

[Scratch Hook]