Luyện nghe bài hát Politics

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

Every you see and hear was paid for/
So, try to discredit me, cause my shit isnt played more/
Just imagine to wait, bored, at the stage door/
Cause nothing worse than a name on the marquis when it aint yours/
And youre desperately to make noise, but all you gets 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 theyll play the dead.
These vicious double-standards can be in many arenas of the game/
From radio burn to video screens, the the same/
From to mix DJs You give em the green, they give the OK
Cause niggas are greedy leading the race, they you a dream and spit in your face/
And it isnt easy to look away, when focused on your Budden career/
Pumped up with potential, but you fire nothing from here/
Need anything done? Then you do it yourself with no help/
When you on your own? Then everyone shows 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 for improvement/
you boo at QN5 and refuse to review the music/
Bitch, youre fronting on the future, stop your back and face forward/
Reviewers best to listen to this they paid for it/
Cause, the fuck!? Do I need to get shot 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 induce you with the buzz, thatll get you news-scoops and the pub/
But Buddy, Im flat broke. So on note, Ill say goodbye to articles/
Bookings for college shows, pushing us hard for dough/
Then you wondering why youre seeing the niggas over and over/
The more the flow, then, the colder the shoulder/
The same reason you cant stand that you heards/
The same you know it word for word. Dog, its Politics.

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

I breath
And I see
And I move
Cause Im and tired of these politics

I cant
And I cant
And I cant
Im sick and tired of these politics.