Check, you go back to your major label And you tell 'em you want out your contract If they refuse, then you gon' make bullshit music for the duration of your contract If they agree, then we cut 'em in for a small percent Say maybe, you know, maybe the next two years or so, so they can still make some money It ain't what they makin' now, but, hey Fuck 'em Oh, that's some gangster shit, Joe I'm a gangster in the rap game, baby I transcend beyond all that I am to become who I always was Way before I began, then circled back and did it again Reincarnated, for the god to return, would discern we was all waitin' As I levitate down to the ground, they applaud greatness Thank you, thank you I know it's hard to see how I part the sea from your stained view Seeing is believing, so I can't blame you You reanimated after you played it and became Shang Tzu Where I reigned remained unclaimed for a phase until I came through Hello, pull up and you'll uncover what's under the rubble Discover what once was covered in covers But couldn't get out your own way because of your own stubborn Blocked every blessing I bestowed in abundance You know what was coming You chose to run, but you know that you owe what was fronted I was gon' phone my bitch and ask the ticket on titty pictures But the dial tone wouldn't stop tickin', so I clicked it strictly due to my suspicions Fuck exotic, I need a pound of discontinued dour because I miss it Grammed out in baggies with the Batman symbols for reminiscence The cost of a stream is nonexistent unless you mint it with fishes in it Besides the pittance you pay to mount it to time and attention Anyways, that's me knee-deep in the pit of my rage Me and my bitch don't even try We just exchange pet names and go in for the split for the pie You couldn't get with the god and if you tried Nigga, that's bye-bye, you niggas'll die If tensions is high and the glint in the sky, nigga official get fried Now you all white like the Michelin guy You been out the mix, I lost count around 0 and 6, boy, you over with Couldn't hold onto the cliff Losin' control of your grip 'cause you was holdin' dick This shit supposed to hit 'cause $ilk rolled this bitch Like I code the script or broke the riff or Let go of the globe and the boulder slip You don't know what's going on? Well, what's going on? **** is trying to start a major label by recruiting other rap labels Impressive, he would corner the market Every rap label would go to him before they would even consider going anywhere else And then you'll control the most valuable music in the world Well, I thought country was the biggest (Please) Well, that's what we publicize Yeah, we say that because if they knew how much we made, they'd know how much power they have Something like this would've happened way sooner So now what? We cut off the head of the snake