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Lyrics
Emcee Obstacles, everyday things which set-us-back/
Emcee Obstacles, seems like the world won’t let-us-rap/
It’s not just words & verbs coming from a sinners-mouth/
it’s the uncontrollable urge dispersed from the inner-self/
it’s indescribable, & u can’t be held liable/
for what it brings, as it’s greatness is indefinable/
often mistaken for a small-simplistic-skill/
but it’s hard 2 climb & conquer the tall-linguistic-hill/
it must be magma coz it runs boiling-beneath-the-surface/
it’s been unleashed & stopped calling-2-release-it’s-purpose/
& like jury’s people witness, judge & criticize /
try 2 minimize , while real emcees get hypnotized/
by the intelligence & the relevance/
while shitty critics would be more impressed by dancing elephants/
rapping’s not about being platinum, it’s rocking-mics/
rocking-shows dropping-flows till we shocking-those/
who oppose, the skill that we possess/
eliminate-the-shows-best, descriminate-the-flowless/
chorus
they don’t understand the demands the fans-give/
gotta be handsome in rapping to compete with a boy bands-hit/
I spit before, I’m heard they laugh at it/
feel like my hearts-been-hit, I must targeted/
have I got the wrong race, like a swimmer at a marathon/
feels like I’m in the wrong place sometimes it’s almost embarrassing/
sick-of-the-critics sipping-their-spirits dissing-my-lyrics/
they should be licking-my-nizuts when I’m dipping-their-innards/
in gasoline snatch ya stash-of-green infact-I’m-freeing/
them from prison when I kill em I don’t cut em no slack I’ve gapped-the-scene/
sometimes I get so angry trynna stay-right/
wanna battle embarrass emcees give em stage-fright/
they got no right to even think of judging-me/
instead of talking shit hurry up & pump a slug-in-me/
how many times have they acted like the hardest/
they acting so retarded that they always get their ass-kicked/
chorus
I’m sick of rapping bragging how they platinium plus/
when you ain’t backing up records when respect don’t mean much/
sales don’t mean skill, sales don’t mean talent/
sales mean you connected with people that can sell-it/
so if I ever end up making a record that popular/
I’ll approach a pop-rapper & say that I’m topping-ya/
without selling out to the pop majority, follow-me/
As I attempt to make a change if ya want in holla-g/
it don’t bother-me if ya just acknowledge-me for what I am/
a conscience emcee that won’t hesitate-to-take-a-stand/
a mistake-to-hate-a-fan, as they wait-they-make-a-grand/
makes me irate-they-say-they-can, play-my-jams/
on the radio coz the pop fans increased ya ratings-yo/
& now they think ya made-of-dough coz nobody can save-ya-though/
coz ya sold out & that’s what-happens/
when ya in it for the money & become a pop-fashion/
chorus
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