The Industry Is Wack by Ultra
(Intro: Tim Dog)
Yeahhhhh.
I wanna get some shit off my chest, shit off my chest
I wanna get some shit off my chest, shit off my chest
I wanna get some shit off my chest
(Tim Dog)
I got this rap shit sewn, locked down, from the ground to the sky
From L.A., all the way to Long I
Who am I? That motherfuckin nigga who be dissin
I be rippin motherfuckers like I'm eatin on some chicken
Finger lickin, like I got you out of Sylvia's
Copeland's, Roscoe's, pollo, lo-co
Bo-jangles, Popeye's, even KFC
Yo MC's ain't got no wins when they fuck with D-O-G
I'm dramatic, emphatic - I'm charismatic
I'm down with my niggaz (magnetic, magnetic)
My people, keepin it real, fuckin up your mind
Representin to the fullest, yo I got another rhyme
SHOWTIME, pump more systems than the Alpine
I bet you're thinkin to yourself right now what's on my mind (word)
My mind's fed up, yo I'm dead up
These faggot-ass rappers and these punk bitches gonna get wet up
(WORD!) Runnin round the industry, frontin like they're jiggy
Just because you rap don't make you a piggy
Who is he? Some unknown sucka from the projects
Made a few demos, now you think you got it
Rhymin like Nas (what) lookin like Treach (word?)
Beats mad weak (woo!) hooker can't catch (ha!)
Sayin Def Jam's gonna sign you
You betta get a job and leave that bullshit behind you, WORD
You got some motherfuckin nerve
I shoulda left yo' ass on the god damn curb
But I'ma leave it all the motherfuckin same
And focus my attention on those rappers in the game
NOW, first you made a jam that's hot (hot)
Then you made another then that shit went pop (pop)
Then you made another then that shit had flopped
You deserve exactly what yo' ass got, motherfucker!
Tryin to run after the whites
You used to wear Timbs, now yo' ass is in tights
|
