Blueprint - Independently Paid lyrics
[Blueprint - Independently Paid lyrics]
Yeah, uh huh c'mon feel that
That's that real shit
All that fake shit dead right now
Like that yo you know yeah
First things first
Y'all cats don't motivate me to write
Y'all motivate me to FIGHT harder
In white swarter
These rappers tryin' hard to be martyrs
Or stuck in 1995 and can't
Take they rhymes farther
I got a niece, she got a dead beat father
In jail for child support he
Owes to his daughter
And rap life is like a day time drama
Filled with twists and turns
And people without honor
Sometimes I even wonder why I
Bother with this mission
And don't nobody really listen
They can't feel my vision
Unless I'm talkin' bout some club
Shit or thug shit
Or moving keys state to state
On some ole drug shit
I'm sick of seeing cats with
Dollar signs in their eyes
I'm starting to think motherfuckers
Want you to lie they want you to gas them up
And tell them that they dope
Tell them they can get signed
And that there's really hope
But they don't even have a
Snowballs chance in hell
And makin' a half decent song
That would even sell
Cats is really thinkin' that
If they got signed
That it would fix all the fucked
Up problems in their lives
But all the little problems
Would just get magnified when you got loot
And you can't fix them cause
You lack the time
So, go for you're and I'll go for mine
You make a dollar per record
I make eight for mine
Then quit my day job with
A dollar in my pocket
Then have a salary with rap
Money on top of it
That's my shit independently paid
And every move I make will prove
That I'm here to stay
I'm here to stay
I'd like to give a special shout out
To cats sippin' haterade from a wine glass
And cats mad at Print cause
I didn't give 'em shit
All of y'all can kiss my entire ass
I'd like to give another shout out
To the stuck up broads who never call back
And all the ladies that I met while
I was out on the road
Best believe it girls that I'm comin' back
That's that real shit
All that fake shit dead right now
Like that yo you know yeah
First things first
Y'all cats don't motivate me to write
Y'all motivate me to FIGHT harder
In white swarter
These rappers tryin' hard to be martyrs
Or stuck in 1995 and can't
Take they rhymes farther
I got a niece, she got a dead beat father
In jail for child support he
Owes to his daughter
And rap life is like a day time drama
Filled with twists and turns
And people without honor
Sometimes I even wonder why I
Bother with this mission
And don't nobody really listen
They can't feel my vision
Unless I'm talkin' bout some club
Shit or thug shit
Or moving keys state to state
On some ole drug shit
I'm sick of seeing cats with
Dollar signs in their eyes
I'm starting to think motherfuckers
Want you to lie they want you to gas them up
And tell them that they dope
Tell them they can get signed
And that there's really hope
But they don't even have a
Snowballs chance in hell
And makin' a half decent song
That would even sell
Cats is really thinkin' that
If they got signed
That it would fix all the fucked
Up problems in their lives
But all the little problems
Would just get magnified when you got loot
And you can't fix them cause
You lack the time
So, go for you're and I'll go for mine
You make a dollar per record
I make eight for mine
Then quit my day job with
A dollar in my pocket
Then have a salary with rap
Money on top of it
That's my shit independently paid
And every move I make will prove
That I'm here to stay
I'm here to stay
I'd like to give a special shout out
To cats sippin' haterade from a wine glass
And cats mad at Print cause
I didn't give 'em shit
All of y'all can kiss my entire ass
I'd like to give another shout out
To the stuck up broads who never call back
And all the ladies that I met while
I was out on the road
Best believe it girls that I'm comin' back