(feat. Salim)



[Verse 1]

Hey yo it's funny nowadays how these fools see rap

As a Road to the Riches like Kool G Rap

And most people see me and think "Damn, not again

They signed another guy who's a friend of Eminem"

But you put me in a booth to the crowds disbelief

That if I spit the illest I'm keeping all my teeth

Then bite your style and feed you the feces

You've been shoving down the throats of these folks with CD's

And believe that I can be dropped just like that

And be right back working a job I might slack at

I can't do it fuck it

I'd rather show you that I love it with a bullshit budget

These cats walk around iced out with gunclaps

And no cash in a corner of fools with dunce caps

And dumb rap on how you're a star whatever yo

You ain't shit without approval from Thom Panunzio



[Chorus]

Renting all your fancy clothes

That ain't your car in the videos

Trying to be gangsta

You ain't no superstar...

Your jewelry ain't fooling me

Don't give a fuck about V.I.P

Trying to be gangsta

You ain't no superstar...



[Verse 2]

See I blew my advance on a truck and Desert Eagle

Cause image isn't nothing it doesn't measure ego

Plus wherever we go we might get into trouble

I haven't made enough to afford a body double

Cats get some duckets and worry about wheels

Instead of saying something with meaning that really feels

Love all the glamour to me it's all glitz

But the music that they make in the back is all shit

For me don't roll out the red carpet

I wouldn't even know how to act in that department

This game is fucked for sure and by far

Topics for the songs are made up by A & R's

(whew! That's banging!...Thanks man...We should get J. Lo on the remix!)

If my album doesn't sell good for Jimmy Iovine

I'll be inside a bank screaming give me all the green



[Chorus]



[Verse 3]

These rappers pose like models in every head shot

But they've blown every chance like the Boston Red Sox

Get a deal throw it away in 1 instance

I got my shit together forever keep your distance

I'd rather have a will in the bank and be respected

You think I need to spend me a mil to be accepted

Forget where you're from and you can't go back

Can't show you still got it like an old throwback

At a bar chicks think you're slick with quick winks

In return they reply to you back and give blinks

Til you walk up on my crew with mixed drinks

(Have you listened to my album?) yeah your shit stinks

No subjects no skills and no spirit

Mink coats iced out chains and no lyrics

Acting in this business like y'all pitched in

And not a modern day baller like Paul Fishkin



[Chorus]