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Artist: DJ Spinna f/ Guru, Jigmastas
Album:  Beyond Real Experience Volume 2
Song:   So What
Typed by:

I write my fingers to the bone ballpoints of fountaintips
No counterfeit, push verbs and make mountains ship
Plus my brain's a computer that sprouted lips overcrowded with
Sea of information experiences that I doubt you get
A chance to go through until you're dead, nobody knows you
Alive unanimous, not known through the use of pro tools
Approach you on some nonchalant happy go lucky shit
Touch concepts that's immaculate
I gotta spit from the heart about this music biz
Don't abuse it kids, it's just entertainment
Movin' units is essential, treat it like a job
Clockout at the end of the day
Don't get it twisted live your life in disarray
You gotta hit today, go for tomorrow, blow then sorrow
Start to settle in back on the streets back in mettlin'
You wasn't wise enough to keep his shoes
I not surprised at fools
Feeble attempt at street to be tried and true

Hook [Guru]
You wanna spit pull your rhymes out
You counterfeit we gon' find out
You want a rapper, are you an actor?
Just exactly what you after
You wanna spit pull your rhymes out
You counterfeit we gon' find out
The industry ain't for kiddies
So what you got a fitted hat reppin' the city

Things just ain't the same for the god
Life has changed for the god, too many games for the god
See industry cats is like faker than ever
Try to force my hand, son we takin' the cheddar
Distributors frontin' on dough
Don't let me make a call, we'll have 'em up in that dough
I'm stuck in this low
Rap survivalist, pack the livest shit
Tracks with Spinna be the flyest shit
What is a man with no conviction, no commitment
No dedication, no affirmation
Just hidden statements and hidden hatred
Don't hold it back my nigga, just spit it blatant
I did a bid in this biz kid
Still grindin', still ridin, puffin the liz kid
Seein' my eyes, I don't need a disguise
Just watch for the pricks that be feedin 'em lies


Notice my form, it ain't the norm by no means, blow steam
Locomotive action under pressure, my flow mean
My face tell a thousand stories, none familiar to you
We not alike dawg, you can't relate, i'm not your usual
Sicker than your average, this mic talk
My people sendin me get well wishes cards from hallmark
You fall short of the quota needed for credible
You not able to read me dawg, i'm ilegible
Ahead of you like tears to come
My flow tight like my dears too young
And send shots that'll pierce through some
Distributors that front on that dough
Keep frontin', make it pop like a bottle of mo
We do it for show, man I do this thing to survive
So fuck that faggot ass nigga that tried to diss me in Vibe
I spit it with pride, disrespect my take it in stride
What I write could be a candidate for Pulitzer prize