1. LyricsPond
  2. Crayola
2009-07-23

Crayola

Stax of wax 55 high fulla tracks New cats jackin' beats from way back Pay for play only way to get them platinum plaques Clear the racks jobbers slobbin' you for tax Robbery and snobbery Shit is killin' me softly wit that same damn song Makin' folk dumber in the summer A bummer when they shot willie in that hummer Keep it simple stupid means numbers Payola dough white owned black radio Runnin' on empty help go the desperado So I bomb the toms and negros who pray to cash flow No info to the ma*ses as they shake their a*ses No clue but I can't get my shit up in to you Crayola with that same same ol shit Crayola with that played playa shit Crayola with that kid crayon shit Crayola with them ol spray on hits All f**ked up ways must fall Now the industry can't stop me A vendetta to make the whole game better They get the cheddar all I got is a f**kin' letter What I owe? What am I Another number and a ho, they don't know Time to see 'em go like dominoes About time 'cause they endorsed the crime up in the rhyme Got these new souls controlled goin' outta their mind Missed what I said 'cause they don't even own their own heads Go one go all I forgot they made robots outta some of ya'll Today all f**ked up ways must fall Today is up against the wall Misled in the head f**ked by quiet storms and love songs Noddin' heads too hollow forgotten tomorrow Swallowing all that shit that's shallow Give the baby anything the baby wants But that's how them bastards get us up in them caskets Try to get me where they want me Before some of them jump me Go tell 'em I'm a start a rebellion Educate the felons easy on, yeah Tell 'em what the f**k am I yellin' No tellin' you got them artists and artificials If it ain't right I don't give a damn if it's sellin' Recruits chasin' and racin' for that loot Usin' usual drum loops so I salute my troops I don't socialize or mingle, f**k the promotionals And you know what and that g-damn single And the marketing team for that matter It don't matter DJ's gettin' dimes for time on a platter I ain't gotta be high to jack so I hijack FM radio EFF 'em turn it around muthaf**ka Gods to niggas, queens to bitches Race against time see 'em all runnin' for the riches Everything had its chance last dance Some things change like them weather forecasts Ha funny how shit don't last Crayola with that same same ol shit Crayola with that played playa shit Crayola with that kid crayon shit Crayola with them ol spray on hits

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