Damn!
Why you all up in MY shit?
MY groove? MY moves? MY profits? MY pockets?
And the same cats who said I could never make it happen
Once I made it happen, they wanted to know how I managed it
I'm sayin':
If you ain't trying to buy one, don't worry how many books I'm
sellin', dude!
All up in my paper; I'ma start calling you Internal Revenue
And if I have an event, if you ain't trying to hit it up
Then don't worry about who I emailed or how many fliers I got printed up!
And speaking of emails
What's up with these PETTY-ASSED EMAIL WARS?!
Okay, so I may have emailed you about my show
When one of my friends already emailed you and I didn't know
So I guess you took that like I was trying to flood your email box and
You proceeded to flood MY box with all the stuff YOU got poppin'
Like I'ma be mad you got shows!
I'm GLAD you got shows!
Fool, I'm like Ludacris
I got shows in DIFFERENT AREA CODES!!
So what's up with all the messy baby tricks and unnecessary shadiness?
It's like Jay-Z said, "What YOU eat don't make ME shit!"
See, this isn't even the real world
This is the Matrix
Better yet, this is the "Hatrix"
The fakeness
And it's like the Truth Hurts 'cause it's "so contaaaaagious".
See, when you're making moves, folk are quick to say, "Don't change when
you blow up"
But I hit them with the repeater
Saying, "Don't YOU change when I blow up EITHER."
Because when you blow up, folk are quick to be like,
"Oh, So-and-So? I remember when they were just running around trying
to get this, that, and the third off the ground."
But then my question is, when So-and-So was running around trying to
get this, that, and the third off the ground...
...WERE YOU DOWN??
Were you coming to their events?
Or were you sitting on the sidelines running your lips?
Were you supporting the moves they were making?
Or were you too busy HATING?
I'm sayin'
When I had my show, you didn't even have to STAY
You could have just stuck your head in the door and said "Hi" then
"Bye", yo
Instead, you chose to stay home and watch the NBA Finals
Which is cool!
Do you!
But then don't be the main cat wanting to know
How many cats came to my show.
What do YOU care?
YOU didn't go!
And the reason I feel so comfortable asking these questions
Is because I feel that my levels of loyalty and respect for my
brethren are unquestioned
Who's held U Street down for years, hitting up all the spots?
Who's continued to support every venue whether cats were copping my books or
not?
And yeah, sometimes I'm busy and I can't make it to every show
But just because I couldn't come out to it
I betcha I told at least five other people about it.
Who's paid to get in venues where I could have got in free just
because I knew the cat at the door?
Who's spat one piece at ciphers where I could have spat more
Just because I wanted to give the next lion a chance to roar?
And who's copped CDs that I haven't even had a chance to listen to
yet, just to show love to a cat?
All just so behind my back, the same cats could be like,
"Dat nigga Drew think he all dat.."
But still I "feel no way", yo
Because I know that what I do is not for your acceptance or approval
I do what I do so that these young cats can see me and know
That blessings come when you're dedicated to making moves, yo
So all that other stuff is extra
And I think P.Diddy said it best:
"Don't worry if I write rhymes; I write CHECKS."
Well personally, I'm trying to write BOTH, B
So if you're not trying to be a part of my success, then okey-dokey
But I just feel like if you feel that way about it
Then you shouldn't have so much to say about it
So when it comes to slams, if you don't fuck with 'em
Then you shouldn't be the first one with scorecards in your hand ready to JUDGE
'EM!
And if you're in a venue and you don't like the cat who's featured, son
Then why don't you put together five of your best pieces and
teach 'em how it's done?
Until then, you just talkin' head to Drew
So pick a pill; the red or the blue
And by the way, my name is Neo
But that's "Mr. Anderson" to you Agent Smiths
Because I've dedicated my life to destroying the fakeness
Of the Hatrix, kid..
© 2002, Drew Anderson, all rights reserved.