Luyện nghe bài hát Politics

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

thing 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/
nothing aches worse than a name on the marquis when it aint yours/
And youre trying desperately to noise, but all you gets hate,
From biased record pools thatll chart anything for their next
Or DJs that only spin vinyl go get pressed!/
But give em a Nas MP3 and theyll play the shit dead.
vicious double-standards can be seen in many arenas of the game/
From radio burn to video screens, the the same/
From Magazines to mix DJs You give em the green, they the OK
Cause are greedy leading the race, they sell you a dream and spit in your face/
And it isnt easy to look away, when youre on your Budden career/
Pumped up with potential, but you cant fire nothing from
Need anything Then you gotta do it yourself with no help/
When you make on your own? Then everyone to share the whole wealth.
But, Oh well Another day in a hell.
When everyone riding your coattails are the same cats thatll your record dont sell/
I settle for NO REMARKS about room for improvement/
When you boo at QN5 and to review the music/
Bitch, youre fronting on the future, watching your back and face forward/
Reviewers best to listen to this 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 drug money and a spot/
You can spend on a track from the producer of the month/
And thatll induce you with the buzz, 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 hard for
Then you wondering why youre seeing the same niggas and over/
The more original the flow, then, the colder the
The same reason you stand that verse you heards/
The same reason you know it for word. Dog, its Politics.

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

I breath
And I see
And I cant
Cause Im sick and tired of these

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