Knockin Our Hustle

One time for ya mind
 Clear some thangs up real quick, man
 Cause I ain't like things to talk from being out here, yeah
 Thangs I've be reading
 Shows I've been watching
 Telling... taking some real haterism
 Real haterism
 It ain't looking good
 Listen, uh
 I remember a time, when one coast ran the game
 And everybody showed respect to em no matter who came
 But the success that they untamed became hard to sustained
 And after years of money and fame they relinquished their brain
 We supposed them from day one, the east coast was flourishing
 Had love for hip hop and paid Amish to it's origins
 But when we try to sign with them our dreams got shattered
 We got over look and shot down like we didn't matter
 So we went independent struggle hard for a minute
 Never tripping knowing without them, we wouldn't be in it
 We watch the west coast represented to the fullest capacity
 Brought a new style dropped classic heat and did it with mastery
 All the while we kept racing G, still grinding patiently
 Through the hating way to each station the city in the nation see
 And now we even good so they instantly hated
 But check the history the south is what some of y'all originated
 Tell me why y'all getting pissed cause we opening doors
 Why you try'na knock our hustle we ain't never knocked yours
 We gave love and look how dirty you did us
 You need to step ya game up and try to get this bread with us
 If be hoofing the mind state of hate is being proven
 Jealousy brooming and fools because they units ain't moving
 I used to watch Apollo and no matter how good the artist was doing
 If they was from the south, nine out of ten the crowd starting booing
 They think we have no capacity for intelligent speaking
 As if intelligence is only confined the one coast the region
 We got artist who are some of the best in the world of nation
 But get no consideration based on geographical location
 They think it's stupid, but I'll tell you what stupid to me
 Judging a whole region off ten guce you've might of seen on TV
 Now all of a sudden, hip hop is dead and it's time to rebuild it
 Well if it is dead I feel it was hating that killed it
 On the radio you say the south is country and slow
 But it's all love when you down here try'na make you some doe
 Now when they shit is lame, we the ones they tend to blame
 And brace the versity that's the main element that extends the game, fool
 And I ain't tripping I was raised on east coast hip hop
 I was trained by KRS, Chop Game with Tila Roc
 We got New Yorkers who buying CD's every one that I had
 But since we so simply and dumb lemme give you some math
 We grind hard, hit the road, hustle straight blue collar
 Y'all are major labels per unit given half of a dollar
 So if you went gold you're grossing two hundred and fifty grand
 Too pay your managers your lawyer and don't forget Uncle Sam
 Every promotional expense that they said you would need
 Not to mention parts of the contract that you failed to read
 After the video and studio time they recruit
 You might touch fifty G's unless yo ass in the group
 Now down south our records independently drop
 Let's say we move fifty thousand to eighty dollars a pop
 Minimum overhead four hundred thousand all our cash
 Do the math sometimes we make more instead a less then y'all ass, yeah