Too Many Rappers - K Rino

What the hell is the matter with these crazy fools?

Been spitting 7 months, talking about he paid his dues

Rappers everywhere I go there ain’t no escape

These days the crackheads are dropping mix tapes

The radio got you cut and they’re spinning it loud

Go to a show, nothing but other emcees in the crowd

Most of them can’t spit a lick but some of them can

Nowadays man, the artists outnumber the fans

It’s the retarded sounding artists that’s causing the trouble

And the ones with real skills getting lost in the shuffle

Swear up and down you’re in the top three the way you’re bumping

Making it hard on the ones that’s really saying something

Every day another born and more I found recent

Twenty rappers in your clique and only one that’s sounding decent

And don’t get it twisted, he ain’t no hell of an artist

He only stands out because his homeboys is so garbage

There’s too many rappers, every city, every nation

Some of y’all need to find another occupation

Fill out an application, go work at a gas station

But put the mic down because it’s fantasies that you’re chasing

These fools be watching 106 and Park when they get home

Trying to figure who’s the next clown that they can clone

Instead of trying to be innovative with styles you’re dropping

You set out to copy somebody already popping

7 albums still ain’t made you no cash

And your rotten homeboys won’t even tell you it’s trash

They’re sitting in the studio with you night after night

You come out the booth say «how that sound?»

They be like «Yeah, that’s tight»

But in reality, they’re scared for the truth to come out

That your vocals sounding like you got a boot in your mouth

Why don’t you try your hand at something else (please)

Go and sell some Avon

Them nursery school raps sound like you wrote that shit in crayon

And I ain’t acting like I’m platinum though I’ll rip the best up

But damn at least I sell every unit that I press up

Your friends don’t even buy your music, I ain’t joking

You got boxes from three years ago that still never been opened

Can’t hardly give your stuff away, I don’t know how you survive

Yo, I’ve heard of three for ten but damn homie, three for five?

Your lyric writing, it ain’t all that precise man

You might need to try just being a hype man

You’re not qualified to stand with the mic in hand

See it’s about the tightest flows, not the tightest pants

And never step to me because what comes out my mouth will roast you

You’re better off being that dude who’s passing out the posters

Rhyming ain’t for everybody, still a lot have tried

Truthfully only a handful are qualified

Talent level on the bottom side

We should colonize and force them to have their job descriptions modified

Plenty of music in the streets but we don’t trust who made it

And that’s the reason why the fans are so frustrated

Case closed until you come up with some sicker flows

Trash rappers on every corner just like liquor stores

(Outro)

See, don’t feel bad, man, there’s a lot you can do in the game, you ain’t gotta

rap.

You could produce, you could shoot videos, you can design album covers,

man, you can be the dude that carries the equipment… all of that, man,

there’s a place for ya.

Just put that mic down