K-Rino - Too Many Rappers lyrics

It's that part of the album
Where feelings get hurt
Something gotta be said
I might as well be the one to say it

What the hell is the matter
With these crazy fools?
Been spitting 7 months
Talking about he paid his dues
Rappers everywhere I go there ain't no escape
These days the crackheads are
Dropping mix tapes the radio got you cut and
They're spinning it loud go to a show
Nothing but other emcees in the crowd
Most of them can't spit a lick
But some of them can
Nowadays man, the artists outnumber the fans
It's the retarded sounding artists
That's causing the trouble
And the ones with real skills
Getting lost in the shuffle
Swear up and down you're in the
Top three the way you're bumping
Making it hard on the ones
That's really saying something
Every day another born and
More I found recent
Twenty rappers in your clique and
Only one that's sounding decent
And don't get it twisted
He ain't no hell of an artist
He only stands out because his
Homeboys is so garbage
There's too many rappers, every city
Every nation
Some of y'all need to find another occupation
Fill out an application
Go work at a gas station
But put the mic down because
It's fantasies that you're chasing

These fools be watching 106 and
Park when they get home
Trying to figure who's the next
Clown that they can clone
Instead of trying to be innovative
With styles you're dropping
You set out to copy somebody already popping
7 albums still ain't made you no cash
And your rotten homeboys won't even
Tell you it's trash
They're sitting in the studio with
You night after night
You come out the booth say "how that sound?"
They be like "yeah, that's tight"
But in reality
They're scared for the truth to come out
That your vocals sounding like you got
A boot in your mouth
Why don't you try your hand at something else
(please) go and sell some Avon
Them nursery school raps sound like you
Wrote that shit in crayon
And I ain't acting like I'm platinum
Though I'll rip the best up
But damn at least I sell every
Unit that I press up
Your friends don't even buy your music
I ain't joking
You got boxes from three years ago
That still never been opened

Can't hardly give your stuff away
I don't know how you survive
Yo, I've heard of three for
Ten but damn homie, three for five?
Your lyric writing
It ain't all that precise man
You might need to try just being a hype man
You're not qualified to stand with
The mic in hand
See it's about the tightest flows
Not the tightest pants
And never step to me because what comes
Out my mouth will roast you
You're better off being that dude
Who's passing out the posters
Rhyming ain't for everybody
Still a lot have tried
Truthfully only a handful are qualified
Talent level on the bottom side
We should colonize and force them to
Have their job descriptions modified
Plenty of music in the streets but
We don't trust who made it
And that's the reason why the
Fans are so frustrated
Case closed until you come up
With some sicker flows
Trash rappers on every corner
Just like liquor stores

See, don't feel bad, man
There's a lot you can do
In the game, you ain't gotta
Rap you could produce, you could
Shoot videos, you can design
Album covers, man, you can be
The dude that carries the equipment
All of that, man
There's a place for ya just put that mic down