Текст песни
Damn, I hate it when it rain
Ever since I came in the game some hated on the fame
A lot of niggas done changed and started actin' strange
Even labels turning they backs and started backing lames
Radio is the same, whole lotta speculatin'
These mutherfuckas defacatin' on the name
Wu-Tang, if this is where the hip-hop is Radio lyin' then, that ain’t where hip-hop live
It lives in the streets, we eat to live they livin' to eat
I’m fed up, that nigga rides in 'em, givin 'em sleep
R.I.P., make me the king of all I see
And when death call I’m good I got call ID
See it was clan in the front, now they just gon' front
Like my joints is on proactive, and they just don’t bump
Then niggas gon' say I lost my skill
When in fact they all been programmed and lost they feel, fo' real
They’ve got so much things to say right now
They’ve got so much things to say
Damn, another artist chokes again
They ain’t cut as close as him or even broke the skin
See how niggas ain’t yo friends when there ain’t no ends
Don’t care who the case offend, don’t underrate my pen
I got what it takes to win, while ya’ll are thinking I’m trash
Loving the taste of success and this drink in my glass
Watch 'em cosign that whack shit, give it a pass till it’s gone
Quicker than Red, can’t get rid of them crabs
When they’re wrong, call the cops, they credibility’s shot
It’s time to learn, what hot really is and really is not
Off-brand niggas, Meth gonna let 'em know off top
Don’t get smacked on DVDs, trying to show off Glocks
I can’t stop 'cause my enemies plot, or 'cause the cops want me Shackled and locked inside the penalty box
And while they waitin' for my shit to flop
They gettin' pimped like hoes, sellin' they ass just to get my spot, come on man
They’ve got so much things to say right now
They’ve got so much things to say
Ask Miss Hill, half these critics ain’t got half this skill
Often so hungry that they have to steal
If I didn’t have my deal, and didn’t have this mass appeal
Then I’m back up in that trap, slingin' crack it’s real
And that ain’t worth the time, so search and find
A new nerve and here’s three words: stop working mine
It take a lot more to hurt my pride, jerk my vibe
More than media lies, cry when dirt dog die, nigga
The last album wasn’t feeling my style
This time my foot up in they ass but they feelin' me now
'Cause Tical, he put his heart in every track he do But somehow y’all find someway to give a whack review
It ain’t all good, they writin' that I’m Hollywood
Tryin' to tell you my shit ain’t ghetto and they hardly hood
Come on man, until you dudes can write some rhymes
Keep that in mind when you find yourself reciting mines
They’ve got so much things to say right now
They’ve got so much things to say