Price Of Fame

Living life within a bottle, thinking existence is hollow/
Wondering why governments create the systems we follow/
Built in a model, in my mind it’s simply time that’s borrowed/
Binding through sorrow/
Never knowing if we’ll still be alive when tomorrow/
Dawns upon the populous, Pittsburgh the metropolis/
And it’s filled with cops that just want to lock us up/
Fighting for the right to speak/
Society is violently trying to silence me/
Creating ways to take away the teachers right to teach/
You might just reach for the next degree, we’ll do it slowly/
Or you’ll solely catch 51 bullets in ya dome piece wholly/
Going boldly towards the abyss, not knowing who the nemesis is/
They got us brothers fighting though its mostly just irrelevant shit/
We out for the scheme/
Out for the cream/
These niggaz got a lot dreams/
But we forgot about them/
Cause from elementary to penitentry we’ve been taught to doubt them/
Though were lost without them/
We scream and shout them/
When actions speak louder than words/
Stop and observe, and ask Adam and Eve/
Cause if money is the root then its evil that’s growing on trees/
With the shit that sets the visions loose, my quip within this loop/
Is living proof that not all hidden truth comes from forbidden fruit/
So fuck and interlude, or pausing for messages, the lesson is/
Within this metaphoric, rhetoric HIP HOP needs betterment/
So check the evidence, were living in slavery/
Basically aiding those hating thieves who flagrantly pay MC’s/
To corrupt the ghetto, were no angels so we must be devils/
And yet were the puppets who think it’s safe to trust Jeppto/
Living in a state of hypocrisy in the name of democracy/
Constantly dying for another mans philosophy/
Or a richer mans monopoly, keeping it real/
Seeking a deal, without even asking for the reasons revealed/
Perpetuating violence and slugs, the silence of thugs/
Often comes with the knowledge that life is a drug/
The visions of the masses is not a religion but the shit that we be living/
Spitting on bullshit, living backwards instead of growing with wisdom/
And a contracts a prison, to which most would like to submit/
You’ll find it’s legit that the gift in exchange for your soul is a hit/
Of dope, speed, coke, weed, top ten on the Billboard Magazine/
Man its time to come clean, and realize all is not what it seems/
Hip Hop worst than a minstrel show, a kiss of death under the mistletoe/
When spitting flows turns itself into a picture show for pimps and hoes/
MC’s being the latter, seeking the stature that we’ve manufactured/
Dreaming of gleaming as rappers, iced out heathen we lead to pasture/
The reasoning fractured, this scenes a disaster, speaking as pastors/
When we just pleading to be pleasing to our screaming demons of masters/
Even after the meaning has passed us… bruised and maimed/
Who’s to blame? I say in every way it’s stupid aims and foolish claims/
Yet the truth remains, in exchange for loot and fame we loose are names/
And the proofs in the game, just a slew of slaves/
Who be wearing a noose of loosened chains/
It’s obvious that our dominance relies on the truest of lies/
Although the rule applies to the prominence of the bluest of eyes/
Causing fools to die, brutalized, for trying to claim/
That ignorance is bliss, but never really worth the PRICE OF FAME.