They Don't Know

[Intro] Machine Shop...Invasion! Shout out all my people up at Warner Brothers Naim, Daniel, Tick...Tom Whalley, what up? All my Machine Shop Staff, Dave Parker, Whitney... [Tak] Put any other crew in his place I could tell ‘em how much I love it ‘til I’m blue in the face But they don’t know, swimming in the surface of a tough gutter Smothered by the pillowcase, serving in the Dust Brothers Dangling my keys to apartments Fell short, my only furniture was carpet And Hell’s torch seemed to be the light of my future An echo in my head saying ‘I might as well shoot ya!’ Soul for profit, ghosts and goblins I wanna croak, or overdose on Klonopins My bones malnourished like they able to snap And while I’m scraping them scraps, the label collapsed Dough shit...getting ambushed by the lynch mob And I don’t have a choice but to stick with a temp job Count pages as days go slow Thinking to myself ‘Damn!’ They don’t know... [Scratch Hook] “Check out the story...It’s on now Survival got me buggin, but I’m alive Check out the story...’Make a quick money grip, 'fore yo ass is out” [Verse 2: Ryu] Where the check is, what’s for breakfast Lunch out of the question, a buck we stretch it Listen to the growl, the pain’s relentless All the change in my couch ain’t enough to pay rent with I wanna get the mailman, and shatter his jaw What kind of punk brings bills with a stack of catalogs? The irony’s insane, entirely twisted Got the fly gold chain, but no pot to piss in What a shame, why do we rhyme, the game is fixed The only people getting paid is the label--Shit The slavery ship has landed, it’s not just blacks now ‘Cuz anybody that raps, gets shackled One style fits all, you wish you signed that big deal But you don’t see a dime, until you sell like six mil Now you can do big things but straight up though Go and ask ‘em where your money’s at...they don’t know [Scratch Hook]