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Inner Monologue

Remember, whatever discipline you're in

Whether you're a musician or a photographer

A fine artist or a cartoonist, a writer, a dancer

A singer, a designer — whatever you do

You have one thing that's unique

You have the ability to make art. Sometimes life is hard

Things go wrong — in life and in love

And in business and in friendship and in health

And when things get tough, this is what you should do

Make good artThis about to be the realest shit you ever heard

I lynch rappers, got them hanging on my every word

These bitch rappers be claiming they slinging heavy word

Really snitch rappers, niggas singing like every bird

Rich rappers, nah, I don't know them niggas

Niggas don't get rich rapping, they selling clothes or liquor

My flow is sicker cause I flow with vigor

I'm no beginner, peep the whole agenda

Control my center cause I gravitate with Gravitas

This my inner monologue

Burning down your party cause our cocktails is molotov

My crime mob make you stop, lock and drop, don't get wollywop'd

Actually battery in my back like a copper top

Got it popping, started on the B-side of Body Rock

Direct to fan, I'm running my shop like my mom and pop

Modern day slavery today to be an artist, watch

They treat them like a product and try to mount like a hot 'n tot

Molly pop, niggas not caring if they body rot

Partying like Mardi Gras, get the cream like Häagen-Dazs

Golly gosh, this is Utopia, cornucopia

I'm known to start revolts against the Romans like Zenobia

Hoping to keep coping copious amounts of opiates

Tried to start a union, but they blocked me like a Soviet

I hope they get it, I'm sick of explaining history

I'm rolling with a circle of winners, we claimin' victories

It ain't a mystery, the hate'll make it bittersweet

They hate when I engage to debate 'em like Wale's Twitter feed

Who I'm kidding? I'm the great debater

My crew stay winning, we stay innovating

Your circle is rotten as great tomatoes

They get high with you then start dry snitching like Jose Canseco

Prosecco, I'm sipping vino with a vivid hue

Haberdasher rocking Borsalinos like Hasidic Jews

Pitiful, rappers never stand up to the ridicule

That's why I had to get at you

Wear it if it fit the shoe, nigga

(Baby, just shine your light

If you've gotta dim yours, so they can shine brighter

Just stay bright, so shine your light)We're in a transitional world right now because

The nature of distribution is changing

The distribution channels that people have built

Over the last century or so are in flux

The print, the visual artist, the musicians

which on the one hand intimidating and on the other

Immensely liberating. The rules, the assumptions

The now-we're-supposed-tos of how you get your

Work seen and what you do then, they're breaking down

The gatekeepers are leaving their gates

You can be as creative as you need to be to get your work seen

The old rules are crumbling. And nobody knows what the new rules are

So make up your own rules

Songwriters

TYSON, TALIB KWELI GREENEPublished by

Lyrics © BMG RIGHTS MANAGEMENT US, LLC

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