| Now most of us could waste a whole lifetime
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| Doin shit we don’t believe in, so I’m retrievin words
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| Of gold to expose my soul on the sheets
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| Combined with the beat of song, complete, to compete
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| Nah cause most of y’all won’t understand it
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| Takin this existance for granted
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| Never goin after what you really want
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| Cause you ain’t got the heart
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| So your life never starts to have meaning
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| Fiending for somethin to fill that void
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| Annoyed with the surroundings you picked
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| Cause they don’t seem to fit your person
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| Rehearsin what they said would make you happy
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| Until you realized one day, «Damn they trapped me»
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| But who are they anyway? |
| To tell you how to live
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| A college degree, then a career, the only decent way to raise kids
|
| But I disagree, see I wasn’t put here to make a living
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| My living makes me, so even if it takes me a lifetime
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| I’mma write rhymes that I feel
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| Some shit for when I’m fired, that shit for when I’m chill
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| And even if I never make that ticket to a meal
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| I’ll still be a success cause my purpose will have been filled
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| It came to me like a vision
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| The decision was all mine, combined with the fact
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| The lack of points on my GPA made a college hard to find
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| Walk a line into this world, of the so-called real
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| Never backed by a deal, so there was no desire to appeal
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| To the masses of those, who seemed closed captioned
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| To the fractions of light, that glimmer in the dimmer night
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| Sight obscured, by this BULLSHIT~! |
| we must endure
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| Pure thought caught before it can become manifest
|
| Leavin us obsessed, with these objects that bring temporary joy
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| Decoys in the game just like these b-boys and fame
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| To get you to stop focus on the art
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| And start focusin upon makin the charts
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| Not to start pointin fingers
|
| Cause I had the benefit of learnin from others mistakes
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| Those who helped make hip-hop what it is today
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| To go through the shit and cause me to say
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| What the fuck is the music business anyway? |
| Paradox
|
| Coca-Cola commercials advertisin dreadlocks
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| Government officials tryin to communicate with us through hip-hop
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| Which should only serve as a demonstration
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| That our generation holds control of this nation
|
| But the creation of Hip-Hop Temples won’t help
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| If the music don’t stay up to par
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| So many rap superstars supernova, and just burn out
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| Get addicted to the cash then the label turn 'em out
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| I hadn’t picked up the a in days, just been amazed
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| On how many motherfuckers actually think that this rhymin is a phase
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| Ain’t ate a decent meal in days
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| So I guess that this dispels the rumors that this rhyme shit pays
|
| Nowadays, it seems MC means anybody on the block who can make words rhyme
|
| But I remember a time when I rapped, and no one noticed me
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| And now fools is blowin up, off some third grade poetry
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| And it’s a damn shame that we let the game get so low
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| Where it’s the dumbest motherfuckers representin hip-hop, wherever you go
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| And these fools take pride in bein ignorant
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| Not to say that I’m innocent; |
| cause I buy these fools records too
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| So the label can get paid and bring out, another ignorant crew
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| And I know too many heads tryin to get college degrees
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| So how long, will we tolerate remedial MC’s?
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| So please, realize
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| If somethin doesn’t evolve or advance, it dies
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| You listen to the shit out now, and tell me where the future lies…
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| … bitch |