Uh...
Yeah. yeah.
Yeah. yeah. yeah.
Know the game!
[X2]
You ain't got to lie to me
Ain't got to lie to me
You ain't got to lie to me
Ain't got to lie to me
You ain't got to lie to me
Ain't got to lie to me
You ain't got to lie to me
Ain't got to lie to me
[Grand Puba]
Everything was good, we signed up on the dotted line
Bullshit advancement thinkin everything was fine
Up in the studio workin every night and day
For some strange reason, the work don't match the pay
Now I'm feelin like a slave, Kunta Kente
The A&R tellin me, what we can't say
Brand Nubian y'all on some different shit B
It's gon' be kinda hard to get y'all on MTV, yeah
Now we on a roll, promo tryna blow (Uh-huh)
Family can't see 'em, livin off bullshit pediem
Runnin around the country, assed-out and half-naked
Three niggaz splittin a dollar-fifty off a record
Listen here yo, this shit here better blow
Cuz we ain't gon' see no paper till they get back all they dough
From the studio, photo shoots and dough for clothes
Advancement and shit, and not to mention videos
The way we gon' eat, then we gotta do these shows
I'ma keep it real witcha, that's how this shit goes
The name of the game is tough luck if you don't know
I wish somebody woulda schooled me a long time ago
About the samplin and shit (Uh-huh)
How much those artists get
The mechanicals of royalties and publishin and splits
We was happy y'all just being on tour (Yeah)
Until we learned the game, then the attitudes inflamed
Household names, pockets didn't match the fame
And at the same time drop knowledge for your brain
Before you sit down and sip the Cris' and celebrate (Yeah)
Be sho' fo' sho' nigga that you got yo' business straight
Cuz once you sign on the dotted line it's too late
For the next five years, the recors label got yo' fate
You ain't got to lie to me...