The Way It Has To Be Songtext
Songtext powered by LyricFind
You have no graphs, no concepts, no nothing
But then you criticize the rhymes that I'll be busting
And in the process I can see that you ain't ready yet
Recording demos and thinking that you can make me sweat
You got no substance to the lyrics that you claim you wrote
It doesn't matter how you came 'cause you'd leave broke
One demo tape, one track, your ego boosted!
Who wrote the lyrics?
Who put you where you are?
Who produced it?
You got no skills, no talent, no individualism
You got no style, no flow, you're out of time and rhythm
I bet you never even held a mic before
That's why you're scared of the stage when it's time to tour
You never understood the meaning of concept
Lyrics are full of depth and ideas connect
Years of practicing to keep me well ahead of competition
Sort of an inner vision keeps me focused on my mission,
The matter at hand to stand tall, expand
Cross the Atlantic and conquer each and every land
The United States, Japan, Australia
Africa, Asia, Mars, Arabia
It took years of heart breaking, brain digging
Even though times were rough, rhyme bombs were ticking!
Time slipping through your finger tips, gradually
Everything organized, I leave you paralyzed
'Coz...
Stop! Think about it for a minute Now that I'm here your over rated time on air waves is finished
The truth has finally been accepted by the listeners
Your rhymes irrelevant, you got a nerve to be dissing us
Soon as we're gone you're missing us, to be accurate
You killing the scene only for me to resuscitate
It takes time, hell of a mind, hell of a structure
Hell of a composure even down to the way you touch the
Mic is my only artillery
Lyrics are the ammo and concepts are deadly
But you don't understand so you criticize
Surprised to see me rise, jealousy's in your eyes
And you're too busy being disorganize
Dwelling on a next man's style to build your enterprise
You ain't equipped for this, you need practice
Don't bother react to this 'cause you don't have a knack for this
Sort of a strategy, planning the way it has to be
So the day I die I'll be the legendary emcee
'Till death does part me from the art form
I'll be the storm
A life time experience, without a shadow of doubt
No doubt, this is what Hip Hop is about.
I'm glad you were here for this, God gave you an ear for this
Rhyme exhibitionist, pure unadulterated lyricist
A paragraph drawn into graph
Transformed into a song so I'll have the last laugh
Sheer excellence for tomorrow
You borrow and imitate but still sound hollow
Then follow from faze to fashion with passion
City lights are flashing, real rap swallowed up in rations
You can only dream to write like I write, I might
Ignite, confuse and leave you blinded by the light
'Cause I been working on graphs, concepts and all of that
Making it difficult for those who might try to follow that
Thinking they can handle the pressure, the art combined with heart
Blowing 'em apart, ain't nobody fresher
But then you criticize the rhymes that I'll be busting
And in the process I can see that you ain't ready yet
Recording demos and thinking that you can make me sweat
You got no substance to the lyrics that you claim you wrote
It doesn't matter how you came 'cause you'd leave broke
One demo tape, one track, your ego boosted!
Who wrote the lyrics?
Who put you where you are?
Who produced it?
You got no skills, no talent, no individualism
You got no style, no flow, you're out of time and rhythm
I bet you never even held a mic before
That's why you're scared of the stage when it's time to tour
You never understood the meaning of concept
Lyrics are full of depth and ideas connect
Years of practicing to keep me well ahead of competition
Sort of an inner vision keeps me focused on my mission,
The matter at hand to stand tall, expand
Cross the Atlantic and conquer each and every land
The United States, Japan, Australia
Africa, Asia, Mars, Arabia
It took years of heart breaking, brain digging
Even though times were rough, rhyme bombs were ticking!
Time slipping through your finger tips, gradually
Everything organized, I leave you paralyzed
'Coz...
Stop! Think about it for a minute Now that I'm here your over rated time on air waves is finished
The truth has finally been accepted by the listeners
Your rhymes irrelevant, you got a nerve to be dissing us
Soon as we're gone you're missing us, to be accurate
You killing the scene only for me to resuscitate
It takes time, hell of a mind, hell of a structure
Hell of a composure even down to the way you touch the
Mic is my only artillery
Lyrics are the ammo and concepts are deadly
But you don't understand so you criticize
Surprised to see me rise, jealousy's in your eyes
And you're too busy being disorganize
Dwelling on a next man's style to build your enterprise
You ain't equipped for this, you need practice
Don't bother react to this 'cause you don't have a knack for this
Sort of a strategy, planning the way it has to be
So the day I die I'll be the legendary emcee
'Till death does part me from the art form
I'll be the storm
A life time experience, without a shadow of doubt
No doubt, this is what Hip Hop is about.
I'm glad you were here for this, God gave you an ear for this
Rhyme exhibitionist, pure unadulterated lyricist
A paragraph drawn into graph
Transformed into a song so I'll have the last laugh
Sheer excellence for tomorrow
You borrow and imitate but still sound hollow
Then follow from faze to fashion with passion
City lights are flashing, real rap swallowed up in rations
You can only dream to write like I write, I might
Ignite, confuse and leave you blinded by the light
'Cause I been working on graphs, concepts and all of that
Making it difficult for those who might try to follow that
Thinking they can handle the pressure, the art combined with heart
Blowing 'em apart, ain't nobody fresher
Songtext powered by LyricFind