Show Business Songtext
von Azeem
Show Business Songtext
This is dedicated to my favorite, dead or livin
From rappers to the master turntable technicians
We haunted, all of us, lost in inner vision
Brittle condition, some of the best are stuck in prison
Most of us don′t know what else to do except the business
We only went to school special days they took the pictures
Police-ophobic, I suffer lack of patience
I'm sort of crazy, but can′t afford no medication
I face a high percentage my success will never be
Cause if I threw a rock I'd hit a rapper, guaranteed
Thieves never love the sunny days above the seas
The minute that you make it (?) leave
That's what sucks about
That′s what sucks about
That′s what sucks about rap music
I love what sucks about
I love what sucks about
I love what sucks about
Stoppin for some donuts 80 miles outside of Dallas
On a tourbus, everybody thinks I'm Lenny Kravitz
We laughin up in Denny′s, causin traffic signin napkins
And hats with 'Lenny K′ - with a peace sign after it
It just so happens I haven't showered in like 48 hours
I′m rollin wrappers, someone booked this tour backwards
Tonight we in New York, then circle to Atlanta
Then up to Philly, and then some joint in Alabama
Dressing room smellin like a fresh can of anus
There's a fly in my potatos and the soundman is ancient
Talkin 'bout a show in ′88 with Rick James?
He loves reggae music, it′s "irie" we came?
In the middle of the set my speaker get to mufflin
My DJ soundin like some alley cats fuckin
Over feedback, believe that, it always happens with us
And the worst four letter word I've ever heard is show business
Put out a couple records, do some shows, make impressions
And you′re just another name on the grapewine naked
People like, "I know him" - You don't know me
"Aiyo Zeem, ′member me from them Woodworth Street days, gee?"
They keep you restin and they play you all accessible
Frontin on your schedule, actin all professional
They be like, "Gimme your number and ah, well, we'll do this"
Meanwhile you can′t remember who the hell is Do-This
Talkin 'bout a blunt and we should take it to the cuts
Shit, y'all ain′t stickin me up
That′s how a brother end up sleepin where the swamps at
I'll be at the party dancin naughty with some wombat
From rappers to the master turntable technicians
We haunted, all of us, lost in inner vision
Brittle condition, some of the best are stuck in prison
Most of us don′t know what else to do except the business
We only went to school special days they took the pictures
Police-ophobic, I suffer lack of patience
I'm sort of crazy, but can′t afford no medication
I face a high percentage my success will never be
Cause if I threw a rock I'd hit a rapper, guaranteed
Thieves never love the sunny days above the seas
The minute that you make it (?) leave
That's what sucks about
That′s what sucks about
That′s what sucks about rap music
I love what sucks about
I love what sucks about
I love what sucks about
Stoppin for some donuts 80 miles outside of Dallas
On a tourbus, everybody thinks I'm Lenny Kravitz
We laughin up in Denny′s, causin traffic signin napkins
And hats with 'Lenny K′ - with a peace sign after it
It just so happens I haven't showered in like 48 hours
I′m rollin wrappers, someone booked this tour backwards
Tonight we in New York, then circle to Atlanta
Then up to Philly, and then some joint in Alabama
Dressing room smellin like a fresh can of anus
There's a fly in my potatos and the soundman is ancient
Talkin 'bout a show in ′88 with Rick James?
He loves reggae music, it′s "irie" we came?
In the middle of the set my speaker get to mufflin
My DJ soundin like some alley cats fuckin
Over feedback, believe that, it always happens with us
And the worst four letter word I've ever heard is show business
Put out a couple records, do some shows, make impressions
And you′re just another name on the grapewine naked
People like, "I know him" - You don't know me
"Aiyo Zeem, ′member me from them Woodworth Street days, gee?"
They keep you restin and they play you all accessible
Frontin on your schedule, actin all professional
They be like, "Gimme your number and ah, well, we'll do this"
Meanwhile you can′t remember who the hell is Do-This
Talkin 'bout a blunt and we should take it to the cuts
Shit, y'all ain′t stickin me up
That′s how a brother end up sleepin where the swamps at
I'll be at the party dancin naughty with some wombat
Writer(s): June Jackson Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
