[Intro - Fresh Sly]:
It's a ballad of a fallen artist...
Who never thought shit is goin' down like this...
[Verse 1 - Fresh Sly]:
Who you wanna be? Another rap star?
Aiyyo fuck that shit, ain't nice, yo, get by
Another business man in a suit, cold braggin'
Breath stinkin' as hell and drawers never saggin'
Talkin' about makin' money of rap,
Signin' up your band, when you dream of autographs,
He's a straight up bitch, but you are blind as hell
And you are fiendin' for fame, 'stead of weed sales and jail.
You are trapped in the game, fuckin' up your brain,
While that bitch-ass sucker is stuck on cocaine.
Givin' empty promises you'll reach the top
But soon the money you earned on records got snuffed.
Your show is sold out, you askin' where's the cash?
And that bitch-ass replies his ass is outta that.
You're mad and sad but there's nuthin' you can reach,
And he ain't nuthin' but a money-making bitch
[Chorus - Fresh Sly]:
"Bitch!" (x16)
It's goin' out to all you sucker-ass producers out there,
(Really tho'...)
You'se a bitch... (that's right...)
(Ahh yeah, it ain't over yet, bitch...)
[Verse 2 - Fresh Sly]:
Day after day, the shit gettin' worse,
You start to think you're cursed, bizzay flowin' reversed:
Everything is goin' wrong, but you don't know why
Your producer shows up in new suits with new ties,
Every single day, you are too shy to say
Something about it, all you do is pray.
Your fame goin' down, the producer wants more
Organising your shows, risin' of your E.G.O.
Grabbin' all your D.O. and ain't sharing shit,
And you know you lose everything if you quit -
Cuz you depend on the man who treats you like a hoe:
Givin' empty promises you believe and way more.
He says you're the best, he's lickin' your ass,
He wants you to write songs, liein' about your progress.
You wanna know the truth? Well here it is:
Mr. Producer is a money-making bitch.
[Chorus - BigNanaT]:
"Bitch!" (x16)
He ain't nuthin' but a bitch-ass,
Nuthin' but a bitch-ass...
He ain't nuthin' but a bitch-ass...
[Verse 3 - BigNanaT]:
Dear mister producer, you still fiendin' for cash,
Worried them peeps find out you'se a piece'a trash.
In the club you're the mack, and outside a fake,
Indoor drinkin' bubbley for your bitches sake,
Showin' off your broke ass, with fake gold rings,
Gettin' scared when the pigs ride on your tips,
And you slip whenever your material touched,
But it's your own homies money that you had clutched.
You don't even have friends cuz you've trated'em all -
Only attention you get is from them groupie hoes,
Who are thinkin' you produce cuz you said so,
And your bizzay ain't goin' cuz you didn't make it go.
Made such a dope rapper of yourself in public,
Who ya wanna fool wit'cha own fake advertising,
You'll get more fans and hopin' you'll get rich,
Kids payin' your parties, you dirty money-making bitch!
[Chorus - Fresh Sly]:
"Bitch!" (x16)
And this is what really's going down,
Over here...
credits
from Camouflage Funk,
released November 16, 2008
Written by Fresh Sly & BigNanaT
D.N.S. is a hip-hop group, formed in 2006. The group is composed of MC/producer Fresh Sly and MC BNT. For live performances, D.N.S. also collaborated with the group "Whynona Ryderz" since early 2011.
