Letter To The Industry
A toast to independence
Feeling like a rebel with a cause
A blackball outcast
I'm settling the scores
My platform will outlast
When it's said and done no one can say they made me blow
Got a buzz and a crazy flow
The radio won't play me though
Industry support can't buy you a fan base
A fan base can force the industry to join your campaign
You don't have to do what they told you to do
You don't have to cross over to them
The industry will cross over to you
These other brothers bending over backwards to sell out
And still flopped, you should have known to stop if you fell down
I represent for the heaven sent and the hell bound
My tunes bang from refugee camps to the jail house
My body's trapped and my phones probably tapped
But I feel free, I'm somebody even if nobody's killed me
Stop fronting you know I got nothing to prove to you
I been around long enough to clearly see who is who
An independent artist
Making independent music
With my independent label
Moving independent units
I'm a force to be recond with
Of course, he's competitive
Can't understand my struggle
So they call me a terrorist
In the present tense, I'm without presidence
I rep for Arabs, Asians, Africans and South Americans
Theres any old lies in a stereotype
I'm young in the heart with a very old mind
And I ain't got time for pit stops
I couldn't give a monkey's about your ride or wristwatch
I hear your favourite rap [?] in the rhymes you ripped off
Live my gigs got the vibe of slick not
Do not lie
I'm top 5
Grime or Hip Hop
And that's world wide
Dead or Alive
Certified
No word of a lie
I'm destined to rise
Perceptive and wise
Never let them tell you what you can or can't do
Who are they to know what's best if they aren't you
Punks and clowns told me dumb it down
I'm too political
They wonder how I spund it round
Stupid superficial fools
I'd still be me even if no one bought my CD's
And no one came to my shows and I was never on the T.V
If I was just a guy with a pen and a pad
I'd never relax
Go through hell and back to tell them the facts
With several tracks, I could make a fat best of to Loiterers
I'm still poisonous like aspestoz
Behind the bars, lines so hard could smash heads off
My minds dark, rhymes so sharp
Could stab hedgehogs
Sleep isn't coming in
My people are suffering
You got beef with each other
I got beef with the government
They thought I was dead but I came right back
The rumours ain't quite facts
I make the great vine snap
Till the day, I crack
You won't escape my raps
So text your favourite DJ and tell him play my track