[Intro]:
I see a lot of muthafuckaz talk about getting money
All my life I see n***as talk rich and cry broke
I know some of you n***as is starving
You know the industry fucked up right now
Record sales in the toilet
Executives scared to lose they job

[Verse One: Immortal Technique]
You can never hide the truth from Immortal Technique
N***as is happy to sell a hundred thousand in the first week
And retailers is right there watching you
You move with extortion, co-op a dollar a unit
The record industry wants a messiah to come again
So they can rape him for his masters and his publishing
How the fuck n***as sell half a million CD’s, but can't sellout S.O.B.s?
While payola play, and I never thought I’d see the day (never)
When Soundscan is stronger than a disc record
And rappers don’t get creative, and just send a mixed message
So fuck an MC battle, the golden era is gone
I’ll treat you n***as like 50, I won't even respond
Put your mom’s in the rape room and shake the bitch like I'm Saddam
Rush a show and stomp you out during one of your songs
And I’m not a hypocrite because I'm aggressive and violent
I'd be a hypocrite if I was peaceful and silent
And I let em’ get away with the shit that they say
But I treat em’ like Clear Channel, making em pay
For talking reckless, fuck the charm on your necklace
Cause who you down with don’t mean shit when you surrounded
And who you gone get when your four pounded
Your not a boss, pussy, you not even a di-lo
You live in a fucking fantasy smoking hydro
While me and real n***as divide dough
So lie low, and don’t talk to me about disrespecting
Cause even Fat Beats rejected my record
And now major’s wanna sign me again
All the n***as I used to know, tryna find me again
I guess eighty thousand sold will do that you fucking new jack
And i don't need to wear jewelry to prove that
Cause’ three apartments a house and fifty acres will do that
[Hook]
Hardcore, underground, hustlin' in the streets
If you ain't ready to hustle, n***a you don't eat
And if you ain't ready to live for this you shouldn't speak
Because muthafuckas die for this shit every week
Hardcore, underground, hustlin' in the streets
If you ain't ready to hustle, n***a you don't eat
And if you ain't ready to live for this you shouldn't speak
Because muthafuckas die for this shit every week

[Verse Two]
I'll never be as famous as other rappers in the game is
Because I represent what up against the grain is
Never trust no body minor or major
Cause a persons real religion is their behavior
I can stare into your soul when I look in your eyes
4th branch of the government still telling lies
Fox News and then New York Post is a joke
Nucleus of the yellow journalism yolk
And send someone after me if you don't like me
You'll be the next n***a to take a bullet for whitey
Like the Latinos and blacks in Iraq who come strapped in a wheel chair
When they come back
Muthafuck that I'm Peruvian coke
I can tell if your shits fake
I'm the raw version of the crack on you mixtape
So don't hate on this advice that I sent from the grave
Just remember it before you sign up to be slaves