The Music of Business

Lyrics

[Intro: Xzibit] Yeah, that's what I'm talking about The homie John John up in this motherfucker Mr. X to the Z, with a public service announcement For all you faggot ass rappers (What's that?) They think just because a nigga's rapping with a label behind him, it's all great It's modern day pimps and hoes going on in this shit Look... [Verse 1] Ask EPMD, rap is still out of control, 'cause hip-hop plus Glocks Equals Scott La Rock, 2Pac, and Biggie Smalls I figure y'all niggas brawl for lack of protocol Now I'm gonna take matters into my own hands, like masturbation Another 39 suicidal rappers at Heaven's Gate Waiting to battle with Satan Rassassination: taking heads like a decapitation (ching!) Trapped in infatuation (really)? Back up off me Kiss my ass, then wake up and smell the coffee See, when you're broke and unknown, your baby mama clown you Her family down you, don't want your own kid around you "You ain't shit, don't do shit, ain't gone never be shit" So its quits—two videos later, she's on your dick (Bitch) When your albums selling, she "Don't Worry, Be Happy." Bragging to her friends: "That's just my baby daddy!" And sadly, niggas start acting like they shit don't stink But wait: you getting cut like the wedding cake The music business is straight Mafioso: Jewish, Italiano, and Black My BMI/ASCAP platinum plaque rap trap Bootleg my shit to Japan and swap meets sell my same shit back Loan sharks break legs, we break beats state to state A record deal? That's just a loan with a fucked up interest rate [Chorus] (Parrish "PMD" Smith: "Music please...music please") (Club Nouveau: "Why you treat me so bad?") (Parrish "PMD" Smith: "Music please...music please") (Club Nouveau: "I don't know why baby!") But, uh, handle your business (Parrish "PMD" Smith: "Music please...music please") (Club Nouveau: "Why you treat me so bad?") (Parrish "PMD" Smith: "Music please...music please") (Club Nouveau: "Why you treat me so bad?") [Verse 2] Sort of like the label is the devil R&B, Pop, Gospel to Heavy Metal They make dough pimped in the ghetto Label mate: different rat in the same rat race The production company is the nigga that you learn to hate Management is your crimey, your lawyer is your liar And when you're famous but poor, you set your accountant's office on fire It's like this: they loan you a dollar For you just to break even, they stack ten When you finally make one dollar, their profit is Andrew Jackson ($20) You skinny, they got plenty The Benjamins? Before you see any They getting G's, big cheese No Vaseline fucking dope M.C.'s, so "freeze" Call the police chief, it takes a thief Here's everything you better know about the record industry Like Kashif 'Cause labels is doing $300,000 deals Blowing coke smoke up my ass, but we both know crack kills Not very many, rappers ever see a penny But double platinum is two million units, CD's cost $20 (Too true) So here's a clue: Somebody just made 40 million dollars, and it sho' wasn't you, nigga [Chorus] (Parrish "PMD" Smith: "Music please...music please") (Club Nouveau: "Why you treat me so bad?") (Parrish "PMD" Smith: "Music please...music please") (Club Nouveau: "I don't know why baby!") But, uh, handle your business (Parrish "PMD" Smith: "Music please...music please") (Club Nouveau: "Why you treat me so bad?") (Parrish "PMD" Smith: "Music please...music please") (Club Nouveau: "Why you treat me so bad?") Handle your business [Verse 3] Wanna know the relation between hip-hop and drugs? 'Cause professional athletes, black actors, rappers, and thugs All sleep in the same bed together Rich niggas only kick it with other black people with cheddar Same lifestyle: legal or illegal It be us, swinging a three fuck getting skeed up at Peanuts Which leads up to this: a high turnover ration Groupies turn tricks and be quick to give fellatio MC's get the pussy and fame Record execs floss with a corporate card And charge it to the rapper's name But the label owners make all the real money Just ask David Geffen, Berry Gordy, Russell, or Puffy (Ching, ching!) In business, you don't get what you deserve You get what you negotiate And everything is renegotiable, based on the sales you generate But hip-hop fans don't buy albums, and then again, tend to player hate The rapper that went Pop, but before this, I never knew Skills don't pay the motherfucking bills, money do Is you stupid? How nice I represent don't pay rent The R&B hoe that jock Theo on the radio buy your CD tho Rap magazines be screaming they keep it real But keep the fake on the cover For the tennis shoe and clothing advertisements—no wonder Like Common "I Used to Love H.E.R." Now I just fuck H.E.R. with two rubbers [Chorus] (Parrish "PMD" Smith: "Music please...music please") (Club Nouveau: "Why you treat me so bad?") (Parrish "PMD" Smith: "Music please...music please") (Club Nouveau: "I don't know why baby!") But, uh, handle your business (Parrish "PMD" Smith: "Music please...music please") (Club Nouveau: "Why you treat me so bad?") (Parrish "PMD" Smith: "Music please...music please") (Club Nouveau: "Why you treat me so bad?") [Outro] (Xzibit: Rasassination—check it out) (Club Nouveau: "Why you treat me so bad?") (Xzibit: Handle your business) (Parrish "PMD" Smith: "Music please...music please") (Club Nouveau: "I don't know why baby!") (Xzibit: But, uh, handle your business) (Club Nouveau: "Why you treat me so bad?") (Xzibit: Yeah, I suggest, handle your own business) (Parrish "PMD" Smith: "Music please...music please") (Club Nouveau: "Why you treat me so bad?") (Xzibit: Rough riders, lubricated, fiber ribbed) (Parrish "PMD" Smith: "Music please...music please") (Xzibit: Thankfully, we've been blessed to use the Magnums Extra large—yeah, Mr. X-to-the-Z, Ras H2O) (Club Nouveau: "I don't know why baby!") (Xzibit: Can't stop, won't stop, never stop; handle your business) (Club Nouveau: "Why you treat me so bad?") (Xzibit: Handle your business)