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 adversity/
But Im cursed, it seems, and I been disserviced
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 for revenge! I can no longer pretend/
mentally I wont be plummeting off the deep end/
Im desperately these trendy motherfuckers,
Just so I can them never to speak on any of us/
Theres you wanna say?
Get that rappers cock out your throat! No wonder hes been coming out your face/
Son, never doubt The Plague, we infect against even the best/
and vaccines, sedatives and bactrine/
Im fed up the rap scene/
As Im Dealing with an amount of politics that 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/
imagine having to wait, bored, at the stage door/
Cause nothing aches worse than a name on the when it aint yours/
And youre trying desperately to noise, but all you gets hate,
From biased record pools thatll anything for their next crate/
Or elitist DJs that only spin go get pressed!/
But em a Nas exclusive MP3 and theyll play the shit dead.
These vicious double-standards can be seen in arenas of the game/
From radio burn to video screens, the the same/
Magazines to mix DJs You give em the green, they give the OK
Cause are greedy leading the race, they sell you a dream and spit in your face/
And it isnt to look away, when youre focused on your Budden career/
Pumped up with potential, but you cant nothing from here/
anything done? Then you gotta do it yourself with no help/
When you make on your own? Then shows 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 wont settle for NO REMARKS about for improvement/
you boo at QN5 and refuse to review the music/
Bitch, youre fronting on the future, watching your back and face forward/
Reviewers best to listen to like they paid for it/
Cause, what the fuck!? Do I to get shot to get props?
Do you need talent? I guess not but with drug money and a guest
You can spend lots on a from the producer of the month/
And thatll induce you with the buzz, thatll get you 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 seeing the same niggas over and over/
The more the flow, then, the colder the shoulder/
The same reason you stand that verse you heards/
The same reason you it word for word. Dog, its Politics.

My patience is
Cause Im in no political position or enough to state my opinion/
Of game and its minions, Im staying silent and numb/
Cause you cant put your foot in your mouth or swallow your words while biting your tongue/
So with nice-guy reluctance, Im my grudges/
And its hard to be polite with others when youd rather take a knife to
Heres my final shot at diplomacy believe
Swing for your third strike, Im 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 live
Cause Im and tired of these politics.