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Chill Bump
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No Pressure
Light the haze 'til my brain is firey,
pour me fourty fourties 'cause I hate sobriety,
gimme a mic, wage, the right stage and I'll be
rhyming for nine days entirely.
This white page inspires me… I'm a quite strange variety
of mighty MC that just might change society.
I came to change hip-hop to put new,
rules to replace the proposterous few.
Fuck the obstacles blocking the top, it's just you!
Drop your truth, break the locks and push through!
With one idea, lots of kush too,
I'll have my pen leaking ink like an octopus do.
I got to pursue my goal: fill the page, sit and write, kill the stage,
spittin' rage 'til the mic feeling scaved.
I'm feeling stable, I get paid to slay a beat,
I killed my label and escaped from slavery,
I'm free…
Pure rap music ain't made Under Pressure.
If you make music and choose to sell it,
you should dread a label trying to use ya record.
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Fools inherit or get credit from what you invented.
Next you left with a few pennies while they scooping up a huge percentage.
It's… too pathetic, shoot a record exec',
Dude should get it: Grab a noose to pressure his neck.
Stupid ferret! I'm so stable,
no label able to stop me from laying dough on my own table.
No way! I say what I like, I'm different,
stay laughing at the hate and the minor dissing,
scraping my mind, persisting, making shit rhyme and risking
wasting my life 'cause no one's taking they time to listen.
Problem is everybody got an opinion
and wanna defend it. But why be bothered to hear it?
You ain't gotta nod ya head if you not in the spirit.
You ain't gotta comment and wish death after an anonymous visit.
Once again… I couldn't be bothered, I put in a lot of
work, pussies do not deserve to hear so go put on Rihanna.
Follow me if you wanna, or run your mouth.
but MY opinion is the only fucking one that counts,
I'm free…
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