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lirik lagu politics – 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 i’m cursed, it seems, and i been disserviced purposely/
and it’s herbs like these, that’ve got my blood boiling to the third degree/
and i’m nervously avoiding this urge to just burst and scream/
feeling the thirst for revenge! i can no longer pretend/
that mentally i won’t be plummeting off the deep end/
i’m desperately seeking these trendy motherf-ckers,
just so i can teach them never to speak on any of us/
there’s something you wanna say?
get that other rapper’s c-ck out your throat! no wonder he’s been coming out your face/
son, never doubt the plague, cause we infect against even the best/
medicines and vaccines, sedatives and bactrine/
i’m fed up with the rap scene/
as i’m dealing with an amount of politics that would even give the president bad dreams/

every thing you see and hear was paid for/
so, don’t try to discredit me, cause my sh-t isn’t played more/
just imagine having to wait, bored, at the stage door/
cause nothing aches worse than a name on the marquis when it ain’t yours/
and you’re trying desperately to make noise, but all you get’s hate,
from biased record pools that’ll chart anything for their next crate/
or elitist djs that only spin vinyl – ‘go get pressed!’/
but give ‘em a nas exclusive mp3 and they’ll play the sh-t dead.
these vicious double-standards can be seen in many arenas of the game/
from radio burn to video screens, the sh-t’s the same/
from magazines to mix djs – you give ‘em the green, they give the ok
cause n-gg-s are greedy leading the race, they sell you a dream and spit in your face/
and it isn’t easy to look away, when you’re focused on your budden career/
pumped up with potential, but you can’t 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 h-ll.
when everyone riding your coattails are the same cats that’ll pray your record don’t sell/
i won’t settle for no remarks about ‘room for improvement’/
when you boo at qn5 and refuse to review the music/
b-tch, you’re 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 f-ck!? 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 that’ll induce you with the buzz, that’ll get you news-scoops and the pub/
but buddy, i’m flat broke. so on that note, i’ll say goodbye to articles/
bookings for college shows, distribution pushing us hard for dough/
then you wondering why you’re seeing the same n-gg-s over and over/
the more original the flow, then, the colder the shoulder/
the same reason you can’t stand that verse you heard’s/
the same reason you know it word for word. dog, it’s politics.

my patience is drifting/
cause i’m in no political position or famous enough to state my opinion/
of this game and it’s minions, i’m staying silent and numb/
cause you can’t put your foot in your mouth or swallow your words while you’re biting your tongue/
so with nice-guy reluctance, i’m fighting my grudges/
and it’s hard to be polite with others when you’d rather take a knife to f-ckers/
here’s my final shot at diplomacy – believe this/
swing for your third strike, i’m calling you out on the remix/

chorus:
i cant breath
and i can’t see
and i can’t move
cause i’m sick and tired of these politics

i can’t sleep
and i can’t think
and i can’t live
cause i’m sick and tired of these politics.

- tonedeff

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