“100 Hip-Hop labels with all white A&R’s”

… the rap game’s hijacked.

Ice-T, 1996:

Full lyrics:

Yeah, too many hardcore muthafuckas out here in this business
Ain’t gettin’ their proper loot
You know what I’m sayin’?
Check the technique

Everybody talkin’ ’bout the way hip-hop ain’t the same
Suckers kidnapped the game
I know the biggest in the business and no joke
Half of ’em broke and none of ’em smoke

I got into this hip-hop game
Just to try to get a girl and get some light-weight fame
There’d never been no cash made in it
So who thought you could get paid with it?

Just crash the club with my crew and then I’m outta there
Hit some skins, act bugged, that was a rap career
Then Run-D.M.C. jumped the fuck off
Got mad paid, word, kicked the bucks off

There wasn’t many rappers out there rockin’ the streets
When hip-hop was just cuts and beats
I seen Wildstyle dug the scene
I wanna be an MC, rock, rock on, know what I mean?

I started crashin’ rap contests
Shootin’ hardcore rhymes through wack MC’s chests
I signed on the lines of a wack contract
Didn’t even read it, fuck that

They gonna put my record out
I’m gonna be large, know what I’m talkin’ about?
In the first two years I made about three hundred bucks
Yo, this business sucks

But I got another chance and I came correct
Got a lawyer and accountant, now my shit’s legit
But many won’t get no second chance
And get fucked in this biz without a kiss or a dance

The game is to exploit young ghetto kids
A straight pimp game and there ain’t no shame
And the shit’s gone too far
Hundred hip-hop labels with all white A&R’s
The game’s hijacked, the rap game’s hijacked

Let me tell you how it happened

Now while every MC in the game
Was worryin’ about a white boy gettin’ the fame
They dug out the foundation
Now let me give a demonstration

Say, you got a dope group from the hood
Talkin’ mad shit, like they’re up to no good
You take ’em to a label
Now who sits behind the table?

Some Jewish muthafucka that don’t know shit
Tryin’ to tell y’all, what’s a fuckin’ street hit
The shit’s way off course
It’s like me tellin’ Johnny Cash how to sing about his horse

You go on tour, the white agency says you’re wild
Tone down your style
The radio jocks are all pop
So how the fuck this nigga know what shit to rock?

The shit that make your face turn green
Is when you get dissed by a kidnap magazine
I give a fuck about these muthafuckas
I’m doin’ this jam to save my hip-hop brothers

Get your paperwork straight, kid
Get a lawyer and accountant just like I did
Don’t blow your dough, ’cause you will see gs
But this game has no guarantees

Learn about publishin’ points, so you won’t be blind
Learn to read everything you sign
Then you might have a chance
If not, bend over, pull down your pants
The game’s hijacked

Yo, the rap game’s hijacked
I’m talkin’ ’bout a hijack
The rap game’s hijacked
Check it

You can go gold and still owe the record label cash
Yo, kid, check the math
Learn about the word ‘recoup’, troop
And stop walkin’ ’round, all hyped and souped

You ain’t nothin’ but somethin’ to be used and worked
You ain’t nothin’ but a sucker to be duped and jerked
‘Cause the fuckin’ record label don’t love ya, pal
They didn’t love ya on the street and don’t love ya now

They’re out to make an end, friend
‘Cause every dollar you make, they damn near make ten
They’ll take you for everything you got
Or else they’ll sign you and they put on the shelf to rot

I’m tryin’ to tell you what’s up
You best to listen to this record even if you hate my fuckin’ guts
‘Cause I just can’t stand around and watch rap get done
And my brothers ain’t gettin’ none

A nigga like me has gotta spit game
Nigga, get that cash flow, fuck that muthafuckin’ fame
‘Cause the white man’s rippin’ us off once again

Fool, the rap game’s hijacked
You need to listen, nigga
The rap game’s hijacked
Need to play this record about ten times

The rap game’s hijacked
Black people don’t own shit
The rap game’s hijacked
Check it

R&B’s hijacked
Black acting is hijacked
Just being black is hijacked

Nigga, stupid muthafuckas, they rippin’ us off
You better get a end while the money’s there, boy
Silly ass bitch, runnin’ around with a gold chain
All niggas gotta get some real estate

Muthafucka, come up, fuck a bitch
Better get somethin’ you can own, asshole
White man ain’t givin’ up shit
Word o’ life

Although I got a white engineer
But he’s gettin’ minimum wage
So it’s cool, yeah
Shit’s been hijacked.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s