My War, Your Problem

Weerd Science

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    Every one of my lyrics when you hear it
    It'll burn your face as sulfuric acid
    If you're holdin' the microphone I suggest you pass it.
    Hand it over quickly
    Sickly's the only way I know how to drop it
    Every time I kick it people look at me like my name's
    Ripley's Believe it or Not
    Got a wonderful time slot here at the Zero Hour
    Been laughed at for rappin' ever since I was a little coward
    By all the kids who towered over me
    Overpowered me and beat the shit out of my face
    Like it's the job clock in an hour
    And how are we the ones who powered these machines
    And we can't get nothin' done, we controlled by kings and queens
    The unseen son, the one in the attic
    Hope the dream don't come true
    America, she loves you
    Without us who would back up the groceries
    Or price up the clothes that you normally don't see
    On average joes, oh that's me
    Little dirtbag rapper and glad to be

    I like my hip-hop dropped in tip-top condition
    I keep on spittin' but no one listens
    I must drop fire, I can not wait for a fall
    This is our only hope, this is a war
    This is a war

    Every picture you see is a reflection of marketing
    The targeting of certain audiences as only a major corporation could
    It's simple: They feed you shit. Just stop eating it, genius.

    Run up in the Universal Office and find Doug Morris
    Pound him in his office, his life ain't real pretty
    Like bitches that sing choruses
    These forces are forcin' us to try to relate
    In spite of what they lead you to believe in the first place
    Can't move in the city 'cause it's packed so tight
    Everybody up in my business, dissin' the lyrics I write
    Dismissin' my raps off their shoulder like the never happened
    Actin' so thuggish like they tough like Tinactin
    It's rubbish, it's all bubble gum to me
    Nobody bumpin' me stoppin' by your record company
    I'ma flatten MC's with platinum CDs
    You see these two fists? They each got MT
    Tons of Budweiser, got balls of steel wire
    Like a sidewalk and supposedly ya'll are keepin' it real
    But mostly ya just provoke and poke at me
    And hopefully you remember your jokes to me

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    I like my hip-hop dropped in tip-top condition
    I keep on spittin' but no one listens
    I must drop fire, I can not wait for a fall
    This is our only hope, this is a war
    This is a war

    If ? rap in you was approved by tests you'd see it's got nothin' to do with you.
    The real gangstas are old white men putting these records out.
    Hip-hop? That's the last thing they give a fuck about.

    By any means necessary I'm buryin' advesary
    Every vocal performance it's important to stary vary
    If you wanna feed all then you got motorcall
    And I'm on the line, we can meet at the grassy knoll at ten
    Maybe rap was never hip-hop to them
    Seems like it's just a cash crop to them
    So don't claim you spit it proper then
    This war must never end
    I can no longer pretend to be down
    If I die in a battle that's fine
    I got a potion named Revolution number 9
    I got a heart that beats for the art
    This is hip-hop for the love
    Not a 1 on the charts

    I like my hip-hop dropped in tip-top condition
    I keep on spittin' but no one listens
    I must drop fire, I can not wait for a fall
    This is our only hope, this is a war
    This is a war

    This is a war, this is a war
    This is a war, this is a war
    This is a war, this is a war

    Información de la canción

    Composición: Weerd Science

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