Road To Riches Lyrics - Strictly Leakage - Atmosphere

[Verse 1] 

When I was five years old I used to hear funk and soul 

Being played out my pop's hi-fi stereo 

Looking at the photos, buggin on the names 

With the fold out covers and the crazy illustrations 

I got older and bought my own records 

By thirteen I had three crates collected, huh 

And that's my pride, no time for white rides 

Kept on the grind and I stayed inside 

I was sort of a poser how I had my friends over 

Cutting up till we wrecked that direct drive loader 

Mom's turntable went through hell 

A whole lot of wicky-wicky trynna teach myself 

The records got stuffed cause the parties was rough 

But I still showed up to try to rock some cuts, what 

And I was young but the bigger kids reached out 

Give me five minutes on decks to freak out 

The type to get it right, maybe one night 

I be rapping bout my life on the cordless mic 

No matter how it look, always kept one foot 

Between records and books, and the suckers got shook 

Dreamed about it two decades straight 

Way before Rhymesayers first wax got made 

The music is my love and it is my business 

My name is Big Slug, I'm on the road to the... 

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[Verse 2] 

I used to stand on the block selling four track tapes 

Trynna make enough papes to buy more blanks 

There was all kinds of hits, backpacks and drips 

Sweatshirts running network and guess and cred 

The word was spread with speed, the name grew like weeds 

Wasn't long till we took the lead 

Twin cities was little and the winter was bitter 

Getting bigger and bigger, they started taking my picture 

For the shit I spit, some rappers I knew quit 

Got jobs and a family, they just couldn't handle it 

Lice and rhyming, living like a roach 

On the ground and broke, holding onto the Hulk 

In a small town scene we stole like a thief 

No time to sleep with politics and beef, huh 

They all pussies, dicks and assholes 

Collecting stripes from little freestyle battles 

Many mics we gripped, any stage we'd rip 

Even with no chips we'd take them road trips 

Loyal members of the crew had my back to death 

G-Pool, Moonsign, myself and Stress 

All we had was rhymes, coming offa the mind 

For the first time in my life everything felt fine 

The turntables turn while the DJ's mix it 

I didn't know I was on the road to the... 

Photos 

[Verse 3] 

The pop that rocks for props, he eventually stops 

And maybe hops on some desktop guest spots 

The gangster's muscle, are up in the puzzle 

But if their raps are wack they go back to the hustle 

I was the one on the opposite side of smoking a gun 

Taught me how to rhyme and how to run 

Make or break it, the hater's can't say shit 

Stayed awake late night in Ant's basement 

Take notes, spray painted the paved road 

The tapes sold, got lucky with scapegoat, huh 

That means work, in other words sewer van 

Peace to J-Berg, the man with the core plan 

Seeds get planted, hands get handshakes 

Damn straight, gonna keep goin till the man breaks 

And MC's who wanna make ends meet out on my route 

But never ever keep friendly 

Stack the blocks, catch that fox 

Rhymesayers locked on the Mid-West crops 

Troopers, soldiers, shoulder to shoulder 

Sold out the shows and give the groupies to my chauffer 

New tour dates, take the money, put out more tapes 

And call it foreplay, ready for the war games 

Sew it up and then FUCK with the snitches 

Atmosphere on the road to the riches... bitches! 

[Scratches] 

"The money it counts steep" - [Kool G Rap]