Tekst piosenki Ghetto Reporter
[Intro]
Close your eyes
Listen
They get niggas time like it’s lunch down there
You go down there looking for justice that’s what you find, just us
[Verse 1]
It's comedy it's hilarious
Look yourself in the mirror, tell me times ain't the scariest
For me droppin' album after album, like it's a various artist compilation
But it's just me and HB and this shit take concentration
Niggas know I don't drop this often, so cherish it (So cherish it)
Like your daughter's graduation, kids, marriages
When the culture vulture swooped down, they start exploitin' the sound
They drеw up contracts for our niggas, drew hill to drew down
And I'm prayin' they sеt
Instead, most artists don't live as good as the execs
And they end up depressed
Scarred by A&Rs, the music be changin'
And the culture be shiftin', so you gotta move with it
Call me the party crasher, that plan spoiler
That Malcolm C and Maya Angelou and God are holdin' a camcorder
Ghetto reporter, live from 40 Side, you know my storyline
First project rapper, triple platinum with New Yorker pride
[Interlude]
King's disease
Most of us catch it at one point or another
But evolve
Find a new formula
One that takes everythin' in you to make
[Verse 2]
The audacity, masterfully crafted these classics, so naturally
Had to be Nasty back at it
They argue KD1, KD2 or Magic, what's harder when?
KD3 go harder than all of them
Back in the 9-0s, barely rubbed elbows with CEO's
I was dolo, I bet it shocked y'all to see me grow
And the 00's, ain't attend much industry dinners
Had to attend to my business, go past the sky's limit
The hate gon' rise quicker, so how could I manage this disadvantage?
Niggas Planet Hollywood, I came from a different planet
Leave it up to me to break the news you won't see on the screen
Chuckle at you motherfuckers, we the last of the kings
Shout to the real ones like us, it's a shortage, it seems
I'm underground and overground and it's never been seen
Real council my streams
Got real people tappin' in, so that's what that means, indeed
[Outro]
It means I got nothin' but the real checkin' in
We locked in, all the way
Just applaud this, yeah
Trappin' about, you know what I'm sayin'?
Like, I couldn't get out if I wanted to
All these rappers are trapped
And if we can't get out, you know what I'm sayin'?
'Til we over, 'til it's dead, 'til we in the dirt
When I'm fifty years old, I wanna have fifty-year old fans
Sixty-year old fans and sixteen-year old fans
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Ghetto Reporter
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