All my life I had to fight
A reference from a movie
But when you win the fight the loser always tries to shoot me
Momma taught me to do right
No need for a gunshot
To get away from the cold streets I developed a jumpshot
But the thing is this road traveled greatly
Taught myself how to shoot but without dribbling I traveled greatly
No indoor courts forced to practice in the cold
In another neighborhood my actions rather bold
All that practicing in the rain made my skills so good
Until they rolled up with intentions that were no good
They asked me who I was and why I was on their block
I tried to ignore but out their coat it was a glock
Here I am in mid jumpshot
The next thing I heard was one gunshot
I'm hit, shot in the back on the leg
Thinking I was dead
Thanking god for not being shot in the head
They thought I was dead too so they up and left
And I'm laying trying to breathe panicing and ******* breath
How was I suppose to ball with a hole in my leg
All I could think about was the day before
How coach told me I would start and how he wanted me to score
But a bullet wound forced me to sit out
Didn't want to play professional just wanted to get out

This trumpeter of nothingness, employed
To keep our reason dull and null and void.
This man of wind and froth and flux will sell
The wares of any who reward him well.
Praising whatever he is paid to praise,
He hunts for ever-newer, smarter ways
To make the gilt seen gold; the shoddy, silk;
To cheat us legally; to bluff and bilk
By methods which no jury can prevent
Because the law's not broken, only bent.

This mind for hire, this mental *******
Can tell the half-lie hardest to refute;
Knows how to hide an inconvenient fact
And when to leave a doubtful claim unbacked;
Manipulates the truth but not too much,
And if his patter needs the Human Touch,
Skillfully artless, artlessly naive,
Wears his convenient heart upon his sleeve.

He uses words that once were strong and fine,
Primal as sun and moon and bread and wine,
True, honourable, honoured, clear and keen,
And leaves them shabby, worn, diminished, mean.
He takes ideas and trains them to engage
In the long little wars big combines wage...
He keeps his logic loose, his feelings flimsy;
Turns eloquence to cant and wit to whimsy;
Trims language till it fits his clients, pattern
And style's a glossy **** or limping slattern.

He studies our defences, finds the cracks
And where the wall is weak or worn, attacks.
lie finds the fear that's deep, the wound that's tender,
And mastered, outmanouevered, we surrender.
We who have tried to choose accept his choice
And tired succumb to his untiring voice.
The dripping tap makes even granite soften
We trust the brand-name we have heard so often
And join the queue of sheep that flock to buy;
We fools who know our folly, you and I.

The industry, man its not the same
The industry, its not a ******* game
The industry, real ****** is dying to get in
The industry, just define that they don't fit in
The industry, ain't what it used to be
The industry, trying to control the way you rap
The industry, wants you to dress gay and talk gay
But ima dress regular and talk with a gat
The industry, got y'all words meaning nothing
The industry, **** what you heard cause he's bluffing
The industry, money ******* and hate but I dare you
To take a ******* thing off my plate
The industry, like WAIT, but in the streets we like GET EM,
Set em up in that thing, catch em sleeping and hit em and I'm
Pop whoever with em, the coroner is coming to get em
The industry, don't give a **** about you
Industry ******, that's how I tell em.