Oh mercy, mercy me.
At this point of my career I should already be on my third CD/
But every turn of the way has been met with adversity/
But I’m cursed, it seems, and I been disserviced purposely/
And it’s herbs like these, that’ve got my blood boiling to the third degree/
And I’m nervously avoiding this urge to just burst and scream/
Feeling the thirst for revenge! I can no longer pretend/
That mentally I won’t be plummeting off the deep end/
I’m desperately seeking these trendy motherfuckers,
Just so I can teach them never to speak on any of us/
There’s something you wanna say?
Get that other rapper’s cock out your throat! No wonder he’s been coming out your face/
Son, never doubt The Plague, cause we infect against even the best/
medicines and vaccines, sedatives and bactrine/
I’m fed up with the rap scene/
As I’m Dealing with an amount of politics that would even give the president bad dreams/
Every thing you see and hear was paid for/
So, don’t try to discredit me, cause my shit isn’t played more/
Just imagine having to wait, bored, at the stage door/
Cause nothing aches worse than a name on the marquis when it ain’t yours/
And you’re trying desperately to make noise, but all you get’s hate,
From biased record pools that’ll chart anything for their next crate/
Or elitist DJs that only spin vinyl – ‘go get pressed!’/
But give ‘em a Nas exclusive MP3 and they’ll play the shit dead.
These vicious double-standards can be seen in many arenas of the game/
From radio burn to video screens, the shit’s the same/
From Magazines to mix DJs – You give ‘em the green, they give the OK
Cause niggas are greedy leading the race, they sell you a dream and spit in your face/
And it isn’t easy to look away, when you’re focused on your Budden career/
Pumped up with potential, but you can’t fire nothing from here/
Need anything done? Then you gotta do it yourself with no help/
When you make on your own? Then everyone shows to share the whole wealth.
But, Oh well – Another day in a cold hell.
When everyone riding your coattails are the same cats that’ll pray your record don’t sell/
I won’t settle for NO REMARKS about ‘room for improvement’/
When you boo at QN5 and refuse to review the music/
Bitch, you’re fronting on the future, stop watching your back and face forward/
Reviewers best to listen to this like they paid for it/
Cause, what the fuck!? Do I need to get shot to get props?
Do you need talent? I guess not… but with drug money and a guest spot/
You can spend lots on a track from the producer of the month/
And that’ll induce you with the buzz, that’ll get you news-scoops and the pub/
But Buddy, I’m flat broke. So on that note, I’ll say goodbye to articles/
Bookings for college shows, distribution pushing us hard for dough/
Then you wondering why you’re seeing the same niggas over and over/
The more original the flow, then, the colder the shoulder/
The same reason you can’t stand that verse you heard’s/
The same reason you know it word for word. Dog, it’s Politics.
The debut LP from this Danish triple-threat Singer/Songwriter/Producer is one of electronic music's best kept secrets. Featuring tracks with Lucy Camp and production by Peter Anthony Red! Get it now! Tonedeff
supported by 45 fans who also own “Cold.Killed.Collected. (2005-2010)”
I think this is the most Cunninlynguists’ underrated project and glad to have this as a vinyl. Cunninlynguists are probably the most unique, exciting group in hip hop history.. cheers from Saudi Arabia 🇸🇦 BLQLYTE