I feel I'm at the mercy of the business end of music
I'm told my bars are deep but my image it be useless
Mostly 'cause I rap and value knowledge over cash
When in fact I should be posing with some bling and fitted caps
'Cause this'll get me noticed by some devil in a suit
Who presents himself as someone who will represent my truth
But if he only knew how much I hate his filthy guts
Trust he wouldn't try approach, wouldn't try and sign me up
He's corrupt, he's a crook
He's got addicts on his books more addictive are his lies
Than the crack a junkie cooks
From CEO's to A&R, from both of them I'm staying far
Trusting either one is like gambling with playing cards
Me? I'd rather spit a rap than worry 'bout my bank account
Poetry my passion underground, I'm not selling out
'Cos if were being honest then that's all it really is
If you fit in with the mainstream, then you can feed your kids
Style over substance and hype over honesty
Not considered real talk when I mention poverty
It's out and out hypocrisy 'cause what is really real?
At every turn we're told what to think and what to feel
What's the deal with people thinking that this industry is different
If anything, about my image, this game is militant
It's not about the lyrics or the skills
That I possess see its all to do with marketing releases to the press
Get depressed after fame tap a vein then go to rehab
Sober up and re-emerge with R&B and weak raps
Me? I'd never follow this, my lifes worth more than that
Never sought attention, never been bought by cash
Talk about stacks on a track then I can hold a plaque?
This is not my dream brother, this is not my kind of rap
Rather push reality and knowledge over fantasy
My mind is not controlled to spit a paper chaser fallacy
Angrily rebel against the diamonds and depravity
Insanity is thinking that this shit should be normality
This is not reality, it's vanity
Me I'd rather channel all my focus on just being a better man than me