Back to the previous page

Artist: 7evenThirty f/ Kamikaze, Sleepy Will
Album:  Heaven's Computer *
Song:   Mysterious Business
Typed by: @7evenThirty @MelloMusicGroup


[Verse 1 - Sleepy Will]
I'm leanin' back
Thinkin' bout the game
tryna stay ahead
Of constant change
Was a young nigga
Just like you
Immo sell this dope, fuck hoes and rap too
It ain't hard, make a million dollars off a verse
buy that Maybach, supply the whole hood wit work
They don't don't tal about it
This just entertainment
Yeah, it's all for show
Most of these niggas famous ain't never seen a reignment
Niggas like you and me
We don't get them placements on MTV
That's just how it is
Well you just independent
Fuck what them haters say
Nigga, I'm still the business
I put in work
From the crack of dawn
To the crack of dawn
For the perfect song
Most of y'all niggas ain't never put it work
Never hit the block
And made them feet work
If it was that easy, we'd all be rich
Expensive taste
Exotic bitch
It's all politics
A fuckin' campaign
Turn on the radio, the fuckin' same names
What the fuck is that?
It's all format
With corporate cashin' checks
What happened to the vets?
Never had a mentor
To guide me down the path
So I live by the sword

[Verse 2 - Kamikaze]
I hate rappers
there I said it
So don't be actin' like we cordial, all copacetic
Telekinesis says you "meeses" are simply pathetic
I don't play favorites, anybody that's spittin' can get it
You factory
Straight off assembly lines
You're double-faulted with them corny ass wimbledon rhymes
Dancin' like an extra, Michael Jackson's Remember The Time
probably why you wack and why ya pockets are slimmer than mine
Oh, it's about the lyrics?
It's not about the cheese?
Them why you up on iTunes, tryna sell us cds?
Peddlin' ya merchandise, talkin' bout all ya degrees
You tryna get rich off of raps, just like all of the G's
And all of the playas
And all of the thugs
And all them cats that's talkin' 'bout trappin' and sellin' them drugs
Ya sweater's too tight, ya jeans are uncomfortably snug
I'm Posdonous with a pistol, you rappers get plugged

[Verse 3 - 7even]
I feel like giving up
My temper sucks
If you didn't know that, you didn't know me that well, listen up
Sometimes I get kinda tired of re-writin' lines and
Gettin' caught up in this hype and trying to survive in
A game where a million other niggas do what you do and they all claimin' that they hot shit
What makes you the top pick?
Let 'em know yo name
Make 'em respect yo gangsta
Stay "piece"
But keep bangers in the chamber
Fuck the rest
Always out-do ya best
And when you write, try to master saying more wit less
See, rappers want for niggas to caress on they finesse
But see they all got ghost-writers
I guess they just possessed
Niggas turn to gods
They record sold the best
but if you asked what's on they mind, they never speak in golden text
I give a fuck about a viewers' choice
'Cause all I view is moist
No need to speak further to prove a point
Yo main concern is giving yo'self the extra push, Ju
Mastering your craft
And push back when they push you
Gone 'head, let a hater talk, you need them niggas too
'Cause they ain't gone be shit anyway
Too busy focused on what you do
Keep the needle in the groove
When you need to stick a move to MC's
Strike 'em in the heart, twist ya wrist and pull
That's just some shit that you would do if you was me
Biggest question you should ask is, "would you do this shit for free?"