Murda the Mainstream - K Rino

Yeah

We coming for ya

Underground uprising

Muthafucka it’s too late

It’s' too late

It’s too late

It’s too late

Let’s

Uh, if you scared don’t ride with me

Cause any second I just might react violently

Every month every year it’s the same thing

So fuck it murda the mainstream

Specialize and add tracks, this ain’t the rap pack

When I’m coming at you better duck like Aflac

Focusing on your bottom lip and then distract that

Rip it across like the flap on a snapback hat

You can’t stop me every month I’m a come

And I’m a keep on hitting licks like I was punching my tongue

Try’na be victorious against something I brung

Is like running a marathon with a dysfunctional lung (come on now)

I just laughed when I watch the awards

Other than a couple legends all that I see is frauds

Real music coming back those some dissident odds

Women wearing slut clothes and men dressing like broads

Next year don’t put no pants on, order you a gown

Homeboy you ain’t no motherfuckin' artist you a clown

You a slave to the Master and you still in this trap

Equivalent to a dummy on a ventriloquist slap

Come on now

We glorify strippin' we glorify pimpin'

We glorify sniffing coke and downgrading women

They plans for you to be stupid our enemies know

You ain’t a falloff pimp you just a industry hoe

Yeah I know you offended when I say it, it hurts

You don’t know the game let me show you the way that it works

The record label sign new artists then push and promote

Commercial dance songs, freak songs and songs about dope

They pay the radio to play the shit and put it on blast

Next thing you know your five year old daughter is bouncing her ass

And your son is at a club doing a feminine dance

With an extra small shirt on and some pink ass pants

CEO’s in on it, they denied they lying

You a damn fool if you don’t see the shit is designing

And I’m knowing you probably thinking «so what we paid»

But if he gave yo ass a million think how much he made

Fool

See I believe in that secret meeting that left the game crushed

Truth be told I don’t blame the industry I blame us

We let money cover the fact that these cats is evil

We lost control as artists and parents and his people

See sometimes it’s alright to dwell in the past

Even conscience rappers these days be selling they ass

No lie, chasing the high cause the feeling is good

The influence of bullshit music is killing the hood

Any money that they do get, they give it right back

We in the ghetto struggling daily we ain’t living like that

They kill the music that would breed the intelligent minds

Singles and rappers throwing up secret endevilish signs

Don’t be fooled by the image and video represented

The main is cars, all his women and the mansion is rented

You serving time on the label I’m suspending your sentence

This here the official underground decoration of independence

Yeah