[Chorus x3: Timbo King] Summin gotz to give in this biz I don't give a fuck who you are, who you is
[Timbo King] Give it up, we takin all your royalties Yo' producer's gettin stuck for the points, we want all his g's All yo' shit, cuz yo' flow's funny You gotta pay, pump duels, so give up all yo' show money Burnin yo' disc in yo' reels Sellin yo' DAT tapes at crack rates, liable and no frills I'm hittin hard like a brother from diggstown I mean Timbs town, laughin at your mix down Cause I'ma smash that, bash that shit Fuck ass cap, you catch a cap in yo' ass, black You not a artist, mics, you can't damage shit Give up yo' publishin, mother fuck yo' management You not rugged, we housin yo' recordin budget Jack yo' tour, we takin all yo' fuckin luggage No more interviews, cancel all yo' photoshoots This is a message for artistes, solos and groups
[Chorus x4]
[Timbo King] Fuck yo' A&R, yo' whole entire promotion staff Don't even think about givin out autographs No spotlight, takin you off stage Beepers disconnected, you won't get a single page You'se a biter, you and yo' co-writer Forget the limos, stick to makin demos We got a freeze on yo' bank account Yo' release date expired, forget about comin out All yo' videos are cancelled, studio times tooken Throw away them god damn samples Tell that bullshit lawyer to go hang Mechnical statue, go to erase, all that shit is dead Yo' career is a total waste I'm dissin yo' distibution, don't even have a showcase Drowin yo' ass in a record pool Summin gotz to give in this biz, Royal Fam rules
[Chorus x2]
[Timbo King] Call it a crime when you sign on the dotted line Put it in writin, black and white, no dollar signs Deduction, yo' production is jingles No more reorders on yo' twelve inch singles I dedicate this to braggers and boasters Niggaz rippin down stickers and yo' posters It ain't final 'til it's vinyl, so check it You wanna go platinum, but you can't make a hit record We still lookin for yo' bookin agent Soundscan reported, yo' LP's under rated You want yo' name on a flyer, retire Here's a plaque piece for yo' work for hire No cream, where's yo' president at, I wanna see him There's no publicity, run yo' podium Exclusive rights, creative control Here's yo' release, no records was sold
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Copy to Clipboard: [Chorus x3: Timbo King] Summin gotz to give in this biz I don't give a fuck who you are, who you is
[Timbo King] Give it up, we takin all your royalties Yo' producer's gettin stuck for the points, we want all his g's All yo' shit, cuz yo' flow's funny You gotta pay, pump duels, so give up all yo' show money Burnin yo' disc in yo' reels Sellin yo' DAT tapes at crack rates, liable and no frills I'm hittin hard like a brother from diggstown I mean Timbs town, laughin at your mix down Cause I'ma smash that, bash that shit Fuck ass cap, you catch a cap in yo' ass, black You not a artist, mics, you can't damage shit Give up yo' publishin, mother fuck yo' management You not rugged, we housin yo' recordin budget Jack yo' tour, we takin all yo' fuckin luggage No more interviews, cancel all yo' photoshoots This is a message for artistes, solos and groups
[Chorus x4]
[Timbo King] Fuck yo' A&R, yo' whole entire promotion staff Don't even think about givin out autographs No spotlight, takin you off stage Beepers disconnected, you won't get a single page You'se a biter, you and yo' co-writer Forget the limos, stick to makin demos We got a freeze on yo' bank account Yo' release date expired, forget about comin out All yo' videos are cancelled, studio times tooken Throw away them god damn samples Tell that bullshit lawyer to go hang Mechnical statue, go to erase, all that shit is dead Yo' career is a total waste I'm dissin yo' distibution, don't even have a showcase Drowin yo' ass in a record pool Summin gotz to give in this biz, Royal Fam rules
[Chorus x2]
[Timbo King] Call it a crime when you sign on the dotted line Put it in writin, black and white, no dollar signs Deduction, yo' production is jingles No more reorders on yo' twelve inch singles I dedicate this to braggers and boasters Niggaz rippin down stickers and yo' posters It ain't final 'til it's vinyl, so check it You wanna go platinum, but you can't make a hit record We still lookin for yo' bookin agent Soundscan reported, yo' LP's under rated You want yo' name on a flyer, retire Here's a plaque piece for yo' work for hire No cream, where's yo' president at, I wanna see him There's no publicity, run yo' podium Exclusive rights, creative control Here's yo' release, no records was sold
[Chorus x4]
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