Foreword

Foreword

[Verse 1] Mr. J. Medeiros
Through the blogs mags flossed out tags
Music will cost you exhaust you leave you lost with no bags
Meaning you back where you started from
Rapping ain't an art to some
They bar you from the fast track
Scar you when they laugh at
An artisan disregarded when the mind and heart is one
To pen a rhyme they want a pantomime I mean a harlequin
Alcoholic pimp pusher prostituting mics
Man I have to call it quits when it convolutes the light

[Verse 2] Stro Elliot
Stand for the overture, how bout a more mature attempt
At making a mark, for a start
I beg your pardon, I'm off
My own target, I lost faith in a market
I bought cake and it's awful
I'm taught, take when it's offered
It cost, a stomach ache and a loss
Of good taste and for what
Name on a side of a truck?
They never bother with us
Until we bothering that dollar they trust
One follower at a time for bout a dollar and up

[Verse 3] Mr. J. Medeiros
Through the radio schemes scenes and T.V. screens
You see a payday don’t mean streams will see these jeans
You can tell by my outfit I ain't selling out quick
Shame I blame the name that they can’t spell or pronounce yet
It’s Mr. J. Medeiros if you can huh then you can hear this
Not who I was or I appear as
Fear has the many viewing mirrors in masks
Half full or half empty still you need a clear glass

[Verse 4] Stro Elliot
Pick a lane, put your name inside of the game pool
But watch these moderators they don't follow the same rules
Between a rock and a hard place and i can't choose
I'm tryin to find a documented receipt for these paid dues
I made room, inside of a box but I can't move
Lookin for that Parker Lewis life where I can't lose
A synchronized watch with a pocket of earned profit
I'm awfully worried? Stop it I'm not, I'll learn something watch me