Politics Lyrics - Archetype - Tonedeff

Oh mercy, mercy me. 

At this point of my career I should already be on my third CD/ 

But every turn of the way has been met with adversity/ 

But Im cursed, it seems, and I been disserviced purposely/ 

And its herbs like these, thatve got my blood boiling to the third degree/ 

And Im nervously avoiding this urge to just burst and scream/ 

Feeling the thirst for revenge! I can no longer pretend/ 

That mentally I wont be plummeting off the deep end/ 

Im desperately seeking these trendy motherfuckers, 

Just so I can teach them never to speak on any of us/ 

Theres something you wanna say? 

Get that other rappers cock out your throat! No wonder hes been coming out your face/ 

Son, never doubt The Plague, cause we infect against even the best/ 

medicines and vaccines, sedatives and bactrine/ 

Im fed up with the rap scene/ 

As Im Dealing with an amount of politics that would even give the president bad dreams/ 

Every thing you see and hear was paid for/ 

So, dont try to discredit me, cause my shit isnt played more/ 

Just imagine having to wait, bored, at the stage door/ 

Cause nothing aches worse than a name on the marquis when it aint yours/ 

And youre trying desperately to make noise, but all you gets hate, 

From biased record pools thatll chart anything for their next crate/ 

Or elitist DJs that only spin vinyl go get pressed!/ 

But give em a Nas exclusive MP3 and theyll play the shit dead. 

These vicious double-standards can be seen in many arenas of the game/ 

From radio burn to video screens, the shits the same/ 

From Magazines to mix DJs You give em the green, they give the OK 

Cause niggas are greedy leading the race, they sell you a dream and spit in your face/ 

And it isnt easy to look away, when youre focused on your Budden career/ 

Pumped up with potential, but you cant fire nothing from here/ 

Need anything done? Then you gotta do it yourself with no help/ 

When you make on your own? Then everyone shows to share the whole wealth. 

But, Oh well Another day in a cold hell. 

When everyone riding your coattails are the same cats thatll pray your record dont sell/ 

I wont settle for NO REMARKS about room for improvement/ 

When you boo at QN5 and refuse to review the music/ 

Bitch, youre fronting on the future, stop watching your back and face forward/ 

Reviewers best to listen to this like they paid for it/ 

Cause, what the fuck!? Do I need to get shot to get props? 

Do you need talent? I guess not but with drug money and a guest spot/ 

You can spend lots on a track from the producer of the month/ 

And thatll induce you with the buzz, thatll get you news-scoops and the pub/ 

But Buddy, Im flat broke. So on that note, Ill say goodbye to articles/ 

Bookings for college shows, distribution pushing us hard for dough/ 

Then you wondering why youre seeing the same niggas over and over/ 

The more original the flow, then, the colder the shoulder/ 

The same reason you cant stand that verse you heards/ 

The same reason you know it word for word. Dog, its Politics. 

My patience is drifting/ 

Cause Im in no political position or famous enough to state my opinion/ 

Of this game and its minions, Im staying silent and numb/ 

Cause you cant put your foot in your mouth or swallow your words while youre biting your tongue/ 

So with nice-guy reluctance, Im fighting my grudges/ 

And its hard to be polite with others when youd rather take a knife to fuckers/ 

Heres my final shot at diplomacy believe this/ 

Swing for your third strike, Im calling you out on the remix/ 

Chorus: 

I cant breath 

And I cant see 

And I cant move 

Cause Im sick and tired of these politics