[Intro]
[Verse 1: Rics Rumble]
They say talent doesn't pay, but image gets you famous, ignoran*s
That's an ignorant a**hole if you explain it
I'm tired of painting pictures for n***as that took the pages
Always looking at the image, try reading the illustrations
(I mean) "I know the game is dumbed down" says Fiasco
It's a Fiasco like the [?]
When the d**h of one who speaking had you leaving through the backdoor
When this hip-hop sh** here is hotter than tabasco
Man I'm wacko, out of my mind, like I sold my brain
Cause before I sell my soul, I go back and sell c**aine
Seventeen's the block, I know exactly where to go, my man
A hundred dollar double up, a bubble up in [?]
The mc's that came nowadays, like overdose on Novocaine
Cause I don't really feel this, man, I don't even know the name
Which the type to take a pic and crop into a broken frame
Show em' how to stack this weed, I rock it til' it's over, man
[Hook] x2
This hip-hop game's no joke
Every time I hop up on the stage I'm broke
Got no money in my pocket but there's something in my cup
Got a dollar in my wallet but I'm smoking on a blunt, it just doesn't add up
[Verse 2: Rics Rumble]
I got my lights in here, there be no fights in here
Cause all my hip-hop-heads came to get enlightened here
Everyone is excited here, I really think I like it here
Cause even though the place packed, it's just me and the mic in here
Zoned out, diggin' my knock and I rip a poem out
I ain't got to watch my back because I'm home now
I could close my eyes and rock it, rock it to my own sound
I heard they pop on cloud now, but I'm rocking on my own cloud
Doors are closed but Imma' unlock it on my own now
I ain't got to go mainstream, I got my crowd
And it's thug life for life, ready for showdown
Track a four pound would throw down if it goes now
And that's the way it goes now, and the way before
Doing this is worse, so what they worth? What you would pay me for?
Ever since a baby I've been struggling, I'm crazy for a reason
So don't ask me why they call me Rics Rumble, man
[Hook] x2
This hip-hop game's no joke
Every time I hop up on the stage I'm broke
Got no money in my pocket but there's something in my cup
Got a dollar in my wallet but I'm smoking on a blunt, it just doesn't add up
[Verse 3: Rics Rumble]
Ok
Money is currency, currency is confidence
I contemplate the consciousness to turn around and conquer it
Is hard to keep a clear head when you're always getting compliments
Never on the defence always on the opposite
Which means above the mic core so why do they even try for
If it nice for [?] this is hip hop, what I die for
Man I work hard, better try more
I'm a true dogg, what you lie for?
I'm a weird twist, I'm a lyricist, ventriloquist, decide boy
Open up your eyes more, see what you been missing
Bench press every step, you just seen what we've been lifting
I took a step back from selling crack and cooking in the kitchen
I got seven brothers/sisters so believe me I've been itching
Thank god I got an outlet, and I haven't been out yet
Cause I should have been dead years ago behind the outlet (for real)
I want to out let a scream, I am not out yet
Cause that's not how I get it out, I do it with my [?]
[Hook] x2
This hip-hop game's no joke
Every time I hop up on the stage I'm broke
Got no money in my pocket but there's something in my cup
Got a dollar in my wallet but I'm smoking on a blunt, it just doesn't add up