Ghetto Reporter

Close your eyes Listen, listen, listen They give niggas time like it's lunch down there You go down there looking for justice that's what you find, just us It's comedy, it's hilarious Look yourself in the mirror, tell me times ain't the scariest For me droppin' album after album, like it's a various artist compilation But it's just me and HB and this shit take concentration Niggas know I don't drop this often, so cherish it (so cherish it) Like your daughter's graduation, kid's marriages When the culture vultures swooped down, they start exploitin' the sound They drew up contracts for our niggas, Dru Hill to drew down And I'm prayin' they set Instead, most artists don't live as good as the execs And they end up depressed Scarred by A&Rs, the music be changin' And the culture be shiftin', so you gotta move with it Call me the party crasher, that plan spoiler That Malcolm C and Maya Angelou and God are holdin' a camcorder Ghetto reporter, live from 40-Side, you know my storyline First project rapper, triple platinum with New Yorker pride King's Disease Most of us catch it at one point or another But evolve Find a new formula One that takes everything in you to make The audacity, masterfully crafted these classics, so naturally Had to be nasty back at it They argue KD1, KD2, and Magic, what's harder when? KD3 go harder than all of them Back in the 9-0's, barely rubbed elbows with CEOs I was dolo, I bet it shocked y'all to see me grow And the 0-0's, I still ain't attend much industry dinners Had to tend to my business, go past the sky's limit The hate gon' rise quicker, so how could I manage this disadvantage? Niggas Planet Hollywood, I came from a different planet Leave it up to me to break the news you won't see on the screen Chuckle at you motherfuckers, we the last of the kings Shout to the real ones like us, it's a shortage, it seems I'm underground and overground and it's never been seen Real council my streams Got real people tappin' in, so that's what that means, indeed It means I got nothin' but the real checkin' in We locked in, all the way Just applaud this, yeah Trappin' about, you know what I'm sayin'? Like, I couldn't get out if I wanted to All us rappers are trapped in it We can't get out, you know what I'm sayin'? 'Til we over, 'til it's dead, 'til we in the dirt When I'm fifty years old, I wanna have fifty-year-old fans Sixty-year old fans and sixteen-year old fans --- Ghetto Reporter - Nas