Verse 1 - Apollo
I got a bag full of CD’s on my back
Walking round the mall like, Yo! Check out my tracks
My name is Apollo, I’m a local artist
Then he listen, “Man this sh*t go hard, is it free?”
Nah it cost 5 dollars yo
“Oh, I ain’t got it, I’ma holla tho”
Then walk right up into Style Setter
And buy an Ed Hardy shirt and Coogi sweater
So I’m like alright whatever
I’ll just find another person who likes it better
So I holla at this girl in the food court line
Spit her my lines, she’s like, “You’re Apollo?
Oh man I love your songs
I put ’em on every morning when I wake up man it get me going”
I say word how’d you get it then?
“She say I burned it from a friend”
I’m just glad you like it
So I turn to her friend whose texting on her sidekick
Like would you like to buy it?
And she’s like, “If I could burn it, why buy it?”

“That’s just stupid,
I got Limewire, Myspace
If I wanna hear something, I download it
There’s no reason to buy anything, anymore”

Hook
Be careful, they don’t properly depict ya
It’s all about image, quench ya thirst on my elixir
Just buy her liquor, the game is a bitch
Nobody wants help you ‘til you can make ’em rich
Till you can make ’em rich
Nobody wants help you ‘til you can make ’em rich
Till you can make ’em rich
Nobody wants help you ‘til you can make ’em rich


Verse 2
And so I’m like, man forget the mall
I’ll just sell ’em to my friends I bet they’ll buy ’em all
So that night I hit the club
With an old friend from high school and she’s nice too
I bet she’ll buy two, and so I ask her
And she’s like, “Ehh, I don’t got cash
And, I don’t even know your songs
I haven’t came to a show in like oh so long
Plus, I only like auto-tuned music
But I’m your #1 supporter
So when you get famous, you better not forget me
I’ma call you and tell you what you ought to get me
And I’ma be pretty with a Porsche and kitty
And you gon be on a billboard like Diddy”
Oh really? With you leading the way?
Kept my cool, just holla’d at the DJ
Like yo check out my cd
You’re Apollo right, this in my car on repeat
Your shit is hot as hell, well can you play it on the radio?
Well no, we only play who pays the most

“And since you don’t have a simple auto-tuned club track
You don’t got money
You see its not about quality anymore, its about marketability
But Im’a keep bumpin’ it! “

Hook

Verse 3
So now I’m like, F the public, hell
All the talent that we got, we could make it by ourselves
Got producers, singers, dancers, rappers
ENT companies, DJs, actors
Promoters, bands, engineers, x factors
But too many are selfish
To bring it all together and just make our own movement
Cause it ain’t about the music
It’s all about the moolah baby
In this game of pythons, heart is elusive
Trust contusive, friends abusive
And I swear one day that I’ma lose it
Next time I hear that somebody did a show
And didn’t no other rapper show or tell nobody else to go
Somebody did a party but ain’t nobody open
Somebody got a break but ain’t nobody know it
Somebody album drop and nobody help sell it
Or even worse, buy it, people are pathetic
If we could just make each other better
In the long run, we could all make it, together

“But I can’t invest my time and energy into helping you
If it don’t help me, right now
I can’t worry about you and the future
I’m just worried about me and my time.”

Hook