| Oh mercy, mercy me. | |
| At this point of my career | |
| I should already be on my third | |
| CD/But every turn of the way has been met with adversity/ | |
| But I’m cursed, it seems, and | |
| I been disserviced purposely/ | |
| And it’s herbs like these, that’ve got my blood boiling to the third degree/ | |
| And I’m nervously avoiding this urge to just burst and scream/ | |
| Feeling the thirst for revenge! | |
| I can no longer pretend/ | |
| That mentally | |
| I won’t be plummeting off the deep end/ | |
| I’m desperately seeking these trendy mother****ers, | |
| Just so I can teach them never to speak on any of us/ | |
| There’s something you wanna say? | |
| Get that other rapper’s cock out your throat! | |
| No wonder he’s been coming out your face/ | |
| Son, never doubt | |
| The Plague, cause we infect against even the best/medicines and vaccines, sedatives and bactrine/ | |
| I’m fed up with the rap scene/ | |
| As I’m Dealing with an amount of politics that would even give the president bad dreams/ | |
| Every thing you see and hear was paid for/ | |
| So, don’t try to discredit me, cause my shit isn’t played more/ | |
| Just imagine having to wait, bored, at the stage door/ | |
| Cause nothing aches worse than a name on the marquis when it ain’t yours/ | |
| And you’re trying desperately to make noise, but all you get’s hate, | |
| From biased record pools that’ll chart anything for their next crate/ | |
| Or elitist | |
| DJs that only spin vinyl – ‘go get pressed!’/ | |
| But give ‘em a | |
| Nas exclusive | |
| MP3 and they’ll play the shit dead. | |
| These vicious double-standards can be seen in many arenas of the game/ | |
| From radio burn to video screens, the shit’s the same/ | |
| From Magazines to mix | |
| DJs – You give ‘em the green, they give the | |
| OKCause niggas are greedy leading the race, they sell you a dream and spit in your face/ | |
| And it isn’t easy to look away, when you’re focused on your | |
| Budden career/ | |
| Pumped up with potential, but you can’t fire nothing from here/ | |
| Need anything done? | |
| Then you gotta do it yourself with no help/ | |
| When you make on your own? | |
| Then everyone shows to share the whole wealth. | |
| But, Oh well – | |
| Another day in a cold hell. | |
| When everyone riding your coattails are the same cats that’ll pray your record don’t sell/ | |
| I won’t settle for | |
| NO REMARKS about ‘room for improvement’/ | |
| When you boo at | |
| QN5 and refuse to review the music/ | |
| Bitch, you’re fronting on the future, stop watching your back and face forward/ | |
| Reviewers best to listen to this like they paid for it/ | |
| Cause, what the ****!? | |
| Do I need to get shot to get props? | |
| Do you need talent? | |
| I guess not… but with drug money and a guest spot/ | |
| You can spend lots on a track from the producer of the month/ | |
| And that’ll induce you with the buzz, that’ll get you news-scoops and the pub/ | |
| But Buddy, | |
| I’m flat broke. | |
| So on that note, | |
| I’ll say goodbye to articles/ | |
| Bookings for college shows, distribution pushing us hard for dough/ | |
| Then you wondering why you’re seeing the same niggas over and over/ | |
| The more original the flow, then, the colder the shoulder/ | |
| The same reason you can’t stand that verse you heard’s/ | |
| The same reason you know it word for word. | |
| Dog, it’s | |
| Politics.My patience is drifting/ | |
| Cause I’m in no political position or famous enough to state my opinion/ | |
| Of this game and it’s minions, | |
| I’m staying silent and numb/ | |
| Cause you can’t put your foot in your mouth or swallow your words while you’re biting your tongue/ | |
| So with nice-guy reluctance, | |
| I’m fighting my grudges/ | |
| And it’s hard to be polite with others when you’d rather take a knife to ****ers/ | |
| Here’s my final shot at diplomacy – believe this/ | |
| Swing for your third strike, | |
| I’m calling you out on the remix/ | |
| Chorus:I cant breath | |
| And I can’t see | |
| And I can’t move | |
| Cause I’m sick and tired of these politics | |
| I can’t sleep | |
| And I can’t think | |
| And I can’t live | |
| Cause I’m sick and tired of these politics. |
| Oh mercy, mercy me. | |
| At this point of my career | |
| I should already be on my third | |
| CD But every turn of the way has been met with adversity | |
| But I' m cursed, it seems, and | |
| I been disserviced purposely | |
| And it' s herbs like these, that' ve got my blood boiling to the third degree | |
| And I' m nervously avoiding this urge to just burst and scream | |
| Feeling the thirst for revenge! | |
| I can no longer pretend | |
| That mentally | |
| I won' t be plummeting off the deep end | |
| I' m desperately seeking these trendy mother ers, | |
| Just so I can teach them never to speak on any of us | |
| There' s something you wanna say? | |
| Get that other rapper' s cock out your throat! | |
| No wonder he' s been coming out your face | |
| Son, never doubt | |
| The Plague, cause we infect against even the best medicines and vaccines, sedatives and bactrine | |
| I' m fed up with the rap scene | |
| As I' m Dealing with an amount of politics that would even give the president bad dreams | |
| Every thing you see and hear was paid for | |
| So, don' t try to discredit me, cause my shit isn' t played more | |
| Just imagine having to wait, bored, at the stage door | |
| Cause nothing aches worse than a name on the marquis when it ain' t yours | |
| And you' re trying desperately to make noise, but all you get' s hate, | |
| From biased record pools that' ll chart anything for their next crate | |
| Or elitist | |
| DJs that only spin vinyl ' go get pressed!' | |
| But give ' em a | |
| Nas exclusive | |
| MP3 and they' ll play the shit dead. | |
| These vicious doublestandards can be seen in many arenas of the game | |
| From radio burn to video screens, the shit' s the same | |
| From Magazines to mix | |
| DJs You give ' em the green, they give the | |
| OKCause niggas are greedy leading the race, they sell you a dream and spit in your face | |
| And it isn' t easy to look away, when you' re focused on your | |
| Budden career | |
| Pumped up with potential, but you can' t fire nothing from here | |
| Need anything done? | |
| Then you gotta do it yourself with no help | |
| When you make on your own? | |
| Then everyone shows to share the whole wealth. | |
| But, Oh well | |
| Another day in a cold hell. | |
| When everyone riding your coattails are the same cats that' ll pray your record don' t sell | |
| I won' t settle for | |
| NO REMARKS about ' room for improvement' | |
| When you boo at | |
| QN5 and refuse to review the music | |
| Bitch, you' re fronting on the future, stop watching your back and face forward | |
| Reviewers best to listen to this like they paid for it | |
| Cause, what the !? | |
| Do I need to get shot to get props? | |
| Do you need talent? | |
| I guess not but with drug money and a guest spot | |
| You can spend lots on a track from the producer of the month | |
| And that' ll induce you with the buzz, that' ll get you newsscoops and the pub | |
| But Buddy, | |
| I' m flat broke. | |
| So on that note, | |
| I' ll say goodbye to articles | |
| Bookings for college shows, distribution pushing us hard for dough | |
| Then you wondering why you' re seeing the same niggas over and over | |
| The more original the flow, then, the colder the shoulder | |
| The same reason you can' t stand that verse you heard' s | |
| The same reason you know it word for word. | |
| Dog, it' s | |
| Politics. My patience is drifting | |
| Cause I' m in no political position or famous enough to state my opinion | |
| Of this game and it' s minions, | |
| I' m staying silent and numb | |
| Cause you can' t put your foot in your mouth or swallow your words while you' re biting your tongue | |
| So with niceguy reluctance, | |
| I' m fighting my grudges | |
| And it' s hard to be polite with others when you' d rather take a knife to ers | |
| Here' s my final shot at diplomacy believe this | |
| Swing for your third strike, | |
| I' m calling you out on the remix | |
| Chorus: I cant breath | |
| And I can' t see | |
| And I can' t move | |
| Cause I' m sick and tired of these politics | |
| I can' t sleep | |
| And I can' t think | |
| And I can' t live | |
| Cause I' m sick and tired of these politics. |
| Oh mercy, mercy me. | |
| At this point of my career | |
| I should already be on my third | |
| CD But every turn of the way has been met with adversity | |
| But I' m cursed, it seems, and | |
| I been disserviced purposely | |
| And it' s herbs like these, that' ve got my blood boiling to the third degree | |
| And I' m nervously avoiding this urge to just burst and scream | |
| Feeling the thirst for revenge! | |
| I can no longer pretend | |
| That mentally | |
| I won' t be plummeting off the deep end | |
| I' m desperately seeking these trendy mother ers, | |
| Just so I can teach them never to speak on any of us | |
| There' s something you wanna say? | |
| Get that other rapper' s cock out your throat! | |
| No wonder he' s been coming out your face | |
| Son, never doubt | |
| The Plague, cause we infect against even the best medicines and vaccines, sedatives and bactrine | |
| I' m fed up with the rap scene | |
| As I' m Dealing with an amount of politics that would even give the president bad dreams | |
| Every thing you see and hear was paid for | |
| So, don' t try to discredit me, cause my shit isn' t played more | |
| Just imagine having to wait, bored, at the stage door | |
| Cause nothing aches worse than a name on the marquis when it ain' t yours | |
| And you' re trying desperately to make noise, but all you get' s hate, | |
| From biased record pools that' ll chart anything for their next crate | |
| Or elitist | |
| DJs that only spin vinyl ' go get pressed!' | |
| But give ' em a | |
| Nas exclusive | |
| MP3 and they' ll play the shit dead. | |
| These vicious doublestandards can be seen in many arenas of the game | |
| From radio burn to video screens, the shit' s the same | |
| From Magazines to mix | |
| DJs You give ' em the green, they give the | |
| OKCause niggas are greedy leading the race, they sell you a dream and spit in your face | |
| And it isn' t easy to look away, when you' re focused on your | |
| Budden career | |
| Pumped up with potential, but you can' t fire nothing from here | |
| Need anything done? | |
| Then you gotta do it yourself with no help | |
| When you make on your own? | |
| Then everyone shows to share the whole wealth. | |
| But, Oh well | |
| Another day in a cold hell. | |
| When everyone riding your coattails are the same cats that' ll pray your record don' t sell | |
| I won' t settle for | |
| NO REMARKS about ' room for improvement' | |
| When you boo at | |
| QN5 and refuse to review the music | |
| Bitch, you' re fronting on the future, stop watching your back and face forward | |
| Reviewers best to listen to this like they paid for it | |
| Cause, what the !? | |
| Do I need to get shot to get props? | |
| Do you need talent? | |
| I guess not but with drug money and a guest spot | |
| You can spend lots on a track from the producer of the month | |
| And that' ll induce you with the buzz, that' ll get you newsscoops and the pub | |
| But Buddy, | |
| I' m flat broke. | |
| So on that note, | |
| I' ll say goodbye to articles | |
| Bookings for college shows, distribution pushing us hard for dough | |
| Then you wondering why you' re seeing the same niggas over and over | |
| The more original the flow, then, the colder the shoulder | |
| The same reason you can' t stand that verse you heard' s | |
| The same reason you know it word for word. | |
| Dog, it' s | |
| Politics. My patience is drifting | |
| Cause I' m in no political position or famous enough to state my opinion | |
| Of this game and it' s minions, | |
| I' m staying silent and numb | |
| Cause you can' t put your foot in your mouth or swallow your words while you' re biting your tongue | |
| So with niceguy reluctance, | |
| I' m fighting my grudges | |
| And it' s hard to be polite with others when you' d rather take a knife to ers | |
| Here' s my final shot at diplomacy believe this | |
| Swing for your third strike, | |
| I' m calling you out on the remix | |
| Chorus: I cant breath | |
| And I can' t see | |
| And I can' t move | |
| Cause I' m sick and tired of these politics | |
| I can' t sleep | |
| And I can' t think | |
| And I can' t live | |
| Cause I' m sick and tired of these politics. |
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