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Songs | Albums | Album Arts
Song: | Same Song |
Album: | Wood Work | Genres: | 15 |
Year: | | Length: | 247 sec |
Lyrics:
[Intro] Some of ya'll disc jockeys Take a couple of copies Knowing that this that fire You still hate it and block it
Major Way, Backwudz, this goes out to all the DJs man, this shit real, put your vinyl down
[Chorus] DJs playing the same song I have so much to do, have to carry on
[Verse 1: Sho Nuff] Now I'm the master of ceremonies Listen to my testimony Show me support like women collecting alimony Niggas is phony like the toothfairy They might as well start writing a motion picture movie like Jim Carey Look I was told long time ago my flow was weak Most niggas laughed and muffled my lyrics couldn't compete But I stayed at it, fuck it I'm unique, and now its second nature, give me a pen and paper Niggas gon hate you regardless, even a platinum artist To stay on top of the charts is whoever work the hardest We like a symphony orchestrated with percussion Major Way is hands down the next no discussion No David Ruffin just strictly hustlin' and handcuffin' Backwudz has been official majorly monumental Nothing is confidential my niggas consolidated You infiltrate it your head inflate it you won't make it Sorry
[Chorus](2x) DJs playing the same song I have so much to do, have to carry on
[Verse 2: Big Marc] Shit, DJs got my eardrums sick, like season ticket holders when they hurt Mike Vick Let me talk right quick, some of ya'll got it all wrong, thinkin' we just all on trying to get our ball on We was born to teach lessons through music, receive blessings to do it, give him thanks and pursue it The game is getting ruined, the industry is appeasing consumer's with bullshit, the real niggas is losing But it's all good, never hollywood in the mind frame, we let the song shout listen pimpin' and ya mind change We in another world, we keep it unexpected, its undeniable spaced out like George Jetson It's a coldness but it's real as a heart attack, niggas know the deal like the junkies where you loiter at We done paid dues, now its time to trade shoes, adding up my change spittin' flame over pro tools
[Chorus](2x) DJs playing the same song I have so much to do, have to carry on
[Verse 3: Sho Nuff & Big Marc] Why don't you play another track, put another wack song, we all know we charge like quarters to pay phones This the same old song, same old scratch, DJs spinnin' the same track like St. Jack Radio will play that, twenty times a day, that's why underground artists stay underpaid It's a game like Rucker, more like checkers, you a DJ, you suppose to break records Some of ya'll disc jockeys take a couple of copies, knowing this that fire, you still hate it and block it So we grind, you ain't hurting the pocket, we blowing up the stage and receive checks and deposit It's packed when we rock it, hands in the atmosphere, along with the weed smoke, music that massage ya ears Patience is a virtue, so we stayed strong, now paid long, even though they play the same song
[Chorus](2x) DJs playing the same song I have so much to do, have to carry on
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