Is this one of those happy tracks? Nah, cat, relax
It's just me again, rhyming about some c***py facts
[Verse 1]
Sorry, please excuse my attitude
But if I only had food I wouldn't be in such a bad mood
Now don't you sons of b****** tell me
I haven't eaten all day and my fridge is empty
'Cause my monthly income is spend easily
On records and Patricia Arquette DVD's
Now they're settin' up a show and expect me to be
All happy when they ask me to rip beats for free
Of course you need me to get your party started
'Cause y'all r*****ed, it's hopeless, in fact
Once again I'm opening act for some big-headed bigshot
With big-headed rhymes in this big-headed hip-hop
The worst MC I've ever heard or seen
So how come he gets paid and I still work for free?
Sure, I can rock the crowd and make a really great show
But they just need to make sure to pay me with potatoes
[Chorus]
Y'all just act like this is all a laugh, right?
Lot of cash, lot of a** and you call it "rap life"
?? kinda new, true, but look, it's nothing new
I'm never paid when I'm played, they just hook me up with food
You talk too s***, I'm not hock-thoo spit
Kinda had it with you maggots, 'cause you're far too slick
Actin' all rude, like you're lacking all screws
I'm out of money, kinda hungry so I'm rappin' for food
[Verse 2]
They say that my approach is wrong and I'm losin' it
Don't care about my gear as long as it's loose to fit
Fashion is a toxin and you're strongly abusing it
Don't mind looking like s*** as long as my music keeps
Reaching my fans, and speaking quite frank
I don't give a f*** about your specially designed pants
See, I too wear clothes you can't find in stores
Mainly 'cause they've been out of stock since ninety-four...
Don't get me wrong - I love to perform and I'm not greedy
But after each and every show they all come up to me with
"Sorry we can't offer you anything, later maybe"
Nearly rock stages daily, d***, if only they would pay me
Cheap scum, it's your fault I'm looking like a street b**
With huge holes through my shoe soles
And my blue toes are too cold, I'm stomping my feet
Why can't anybody please get me something to eat?!
[Chorus]
[Verse 3]
Maybe I should just shut up, 'cause what's the point of yelling
When it seems like I'm just talking to myself again
And I'm getting tired of the company, maybe the time has come
To find someone that I can treat her right for like about a month
And watch her stab me in the back just about when I've begun
To like her for real - now doesn't that sound like fun?
Guess it does for me, 'cause I keep doing it time and again
Finding a friend for life's a b**** and then you fry in hell
You probably think I'm crazy, I can tell
Life is like a drying well, words can't describe its smell
At least none that I can spell
And I always find myself in situations like these
And if you wanna plead, you can find me
Outside the club, kicked to the curb
In the gutter with no lover, 'cause they all call me a scrub
And when I'm making raps I ain't into making bucks
So just give me some grub, I am hungry as f***
[Chorus]
It's just me again, rhyming about some c***py facts
[Verse 1]
Sorry, please excuse my attitude
But if I only had food I wouldn't be in such a bad mood
Now don't you sons of b****** tell me
I haven't eaten all day and my fridge is empty
'Cause my monthly income is spend easily
On records and Patricia Arquette DVD's
Now they're settin' up a show and expect me to be
All happy when they ask me to rip beats for free
Of course you need me to get your party started
'Cause y'all r*****ed, it's hopeless, in fact
Once again I'm opening act for some big-headed bigshot
With big-headed rhymes in this big-headed hip-hop
The worst MC I've ever heard or seen
So how come he gets paid and I still work for free?
Sure, I can rock the crowd and make a really great show
But they just need to make sure to pay me with potatoes
[Chorus]
Y'all just act like this is all a laugh, right?
Lot of cash, lot of a** and you call it "rap life"
?? kinda new, true, but look, it's nothing new
I'm never paid when I'm played, they just hook me up with food
You talk too s***, I'm not hock-thoo spit
Kinda had it with you maggots, 'cause you're far too slick
Actin' all rude, like you're lacking all screws
I'm out of money, kinda hungry so I'm rappin' for food
[Verse 2]
They say that my approach is wrong and I'm losin' it
Don't care about my gear as long as it's loose to fit
Fashion is a toxin and you're strongly abusing it
Don't mind looking like s*** as long as my music keeps
Reaching my fans, and speaking quite frank
I don't give a f*** about your specially designed pants
See, I too wear clothes you can't find in stores
Mainly 'cause they've been out of stock since ninety-four...
Don't get me wrong - I love to perform and I'm not greedy
But after each and every show they all come up to me with
"Sorry we can't offer you anything, later maybe"
Nearly rock stages daily, d***, if only they would pay me
Cheap scum, it's your fault I'm looking like a street b**
With huge holes through my shoe soles
And my blue toes are too cold, I'm stomping my feet
Why can't anybody please get me something to eat?!
[Chorus]
[Verse 3]
Maybe I should just shut up, 'cause what's the point of yelling
When it seems like I'm just talking to myself again
And I'm getting tired of the company, maybe the time has come
To find someone that I can treat her right for like about a month
And watch her stab me in the back just about when I've begun
To like her for real - now doesn't that sound like fun?
Guess it does for me, 'cause I keep doing it time and again
Finding a friend for life's a b**** and then you fry in hell
You probably think I'm crazy, I can tell
Life is like a drying well, words can't describe its smell
At least none that I can spell
And I always find myself in situations like these
And if you wanna plead, you can find me
Outside the club, kicked to the curb
In the gutter with no lover, 'cause they all call me a scrub
And when I'm making raps I ain't into making bucks
So just give me some grub, I am hungry as f***
[Chorus]