Luyện nghe bài hát Politics

Oh mercy, me.
At this point of my I should already be on my third CD/
But every turn of the way has met with adversity/
But Im cursed, it seems, and I been purposely/
And its herbs like these, thatve got my blood boiling to the degree/
And Im nervously avoiding this urge to burst and scream/
Feeling the thirst for revenge! I can no longer
That I wont be plummeting off the deep end/
Im desperately seeking these motherfuckers,
so I can teach them never to speak on any of us/
Theres you wanna say?
Get that other rappers cock out your throat! No hes been coming out your face/
Son, never doubt The Plague, cause we against even the best/
medicines and vaccines, and bactrine/
Im fed up with the rap
As Im with an amount of politics that would even give the president bad dreams/

Every thing you see and was paid for/
So, dont try to discredit me, my shit isnt played more/
Just having to wait, bored, at the stage door/
Cause nothing aches worse a name on the marquis when it aint yours/
And youre trying desperately to make noise, but all you hate,
From record pools thatll chart anything for their next crate/
Or elitist DJs that only vinyl go get pressed!/
But give em a Nas exclusive MP3 and play the shit dead.
These vicious double-standards can be seen in many of the game/
radio burn to video screens, the shits the same/
From Magazines to mix DJs You give em the green, give the OK
Cause niggas are greedy the race, they sell you a dream and spit in your face/
And it isnt easy to away, when youre focused on your Budden career/
Pumped up with potential, but you cant fire from here/
Need anything done? you gotta do it yourself with no help/
When you make on your own? Then everyone to share the whole wealth.
But, Oh well day in a cold hell.
When everyone riding your coattails are the same thatll pray your record dont sell/
I wont settle for NO REMARKS about room for
When you boo at QN5 and to review the music/
Bitch, fronting on the future, stop watching your back and face forward/
Reviewers best to listen to like they paid for it/
Cause, what the fuck!? Do I need to get to get props?
Do you need talent? I guess not but with money and a guest spot/
You can spend lots on a track from the of the month/
And thatll you with the buzz, thatll get you news-scoops and the pub/
But Buddy, Im flat broke. So on that note, Ill say to articles/
Bookings for college shows, distribution pushing us for dough/
Then you wondering why youre seeing the niggas over and over/
The original the flow, then, the colder the shoulder/
The same reason you cant that verse you heards/
The same reason you it word for word. Dog, its Politics.

My patience is
Cause Im in no position or famous enough to state my opinion/
Of this game and its minions, Im staying and numb/
Cause you cant put your foot in your mouth or swallow your words while youre biting tongue/
So with reluctance, Im fighting my grudges/
And its hard to be with others when youd rather take a knife to fuckers/
Heres my final shot at believe this/
for your third strike, Im calling you out on the remix/

I cant
And I see
And I move
Im sick and tired of these politics

I cant
And I think
And I cant
Cause Im sick and tired of politics.