The Industry Is Wack - Ultra

Yeahhhhh.

I wanna get some shit off my chest, shit off my chest

I wanna get some shit off my chest, shit off my chest

I wanna get some shit off my chest

I got this rap shit sewn, locked down, from the ground to the sky

From L.A., all the way to Long I

Who am I?

That motherfuckin nigga who be dissin

I be rippin motherfuckers like I’m eatin on some chicken

Finger lickin, like I got you out of Sylvia’s

Copeland’s, Roscoe’s, Pollo Loco

Bo-jangles, Popeye’s, even KFC

Yo MC’s ain’t got no wins when they fuck with D-O-G

I’m dramatic, emphatic — I’m charismatic

I’m down with my niggas (magnetic, magnetic)

My people, keepin it real, fuckin up your mind

Representin to the fullest, yo I got another rhyme

SHOWTIME, pump more systems than the Alpine

I bet you’re thinkin to yourself right now what’s on my mind (word)

My mind’s fed up, yo I’m dead up

These faggot-ass rappers and these punk bitches gonna get wet up

(Word!) Runnin round the industry, frontin like they’re jiggy

Just because you rap don’t make you a biggie

Who is he?

Some unknown sucka from the projects

Made a few demos, now you think you got it

Rhymin like Nas (what) lookin like Treach (word?)

Beats mad weak (woo!) hooker can’t catch (ha!)

Sayin Def Jam’s gonna sign you

You betta get a job and leave that bullshit behind you, word

You got some motherfuckin nerve

I shoulda left yo' ass on the god damn curb

But I’mma leave it all the motherfuckin same

And focus my attention on those rappers in the game

NOW, first you made a jam that’s hot (hot)

Then you made another then that shit went pop (pop)

Then you made another then that shit had flopped

You deserve exactly what yo' ass got, motherfucker!

Tryin to run after the whites

You used to wear Timbs, now yo' ass is in tights

And every time I see you, all you wanna do is fight

Don’t get mad cause my shit is right, aight?

I’m a motherfuckin man like you

You wanna be fake, while I gotta be true (word)

You wanna be the next when you shoulda been you

Now tell me what the FUCK am I supposed to do?

BE-ATCH!

All I wanna do is rap

Get some trap, and live life kinda fat, that’s that

But how could a man just rap

(When the whole fuckin industry is WAK!)

Yeah, Kool Keith checkin in

That’s right, for you wak motherfuckers I got to show, SKILL

Tell you like it is, gotta get this shit off

This ain’t the Grammy awards, ass-tight tuxedos

Niggas are phony, tryin to act like my peoples

TV stars, Mariah Carey, Janet Jackson

Her brother Michael, feelin babies for some rectum action

Niggas like Al Green, you can’t trust Little Richard

Little bitchard

Girls today slept with Rock Hudson

The NBA — your favorite ballplayer’s turnin gay

Girls go nut, get attracted havin wild sex

In big mansions, Hollywood’s unsafe sex

Sniffin coke, movie stars roll in fly cards

Everybody has a card, runs a fake business

I’m that O.J.

who gives a fuck about his case

Like Madonna, that devil wearin paint on her face

You know the industry has already crossed over sexually

A lot of people turned bumblebee

Sodom and Gomorr', it’s time for information

Half of y’all sick sing at the AIDS Foundation

I lay it down clown and take your famous queer crown

Glamour and famous mixed up, you slept with Rod Stewart

Girls get caught, take off they heels for they record deals

Did you get the deal bitch?

Got served

And you sayyyyyyyyyyy…

Word up!