Same Song

Sade, Da Backwudz, Milwaukee Black

[Intro]
Some of ya'll disc jockeys
Take a couple of copies
Knowing that this that fire
You still hate it and block it

Major Way, Backwudz, this goes out to all the DJs man, this shit real, put your vinyl down

[Chorus]
DJs playing the same song
I have so much to do, have to carry on

[Verse 1: Sho Nuff]
Now I'm the master of ceremonies
Listen to my testimony
Show me support like women collecting alimony
Niggas is phony like the toothfairy
They might as well start writing a motion picture movie like Jim Carey
Look I was told long time ago my flow was weak
Most niggas laughed and muffled my lyrics couldn't compete
But I stayed at it, fuck it I'm unique, and now its second nature, give me a pen and paper
Niggas gon hate you regardless, even a platinum artist
To stay on top of the charts is whoever work the hardest
We like a symphony orchestrated with percussion
Major Way is hands down the next no discussion
No David Ruffin just strictly hustlin' and handcuffin'
Backwudz has been official majorly monumental
Nothing is confidential my niggas consolidated
You infiltrate it your head inflate it you won't make it
Sorry

[Chorus](2x)
DJs playing the same song
I have so much to do, have to carry on

[Verse 2: Big Marc]
Shit, DJs got my eardrums sick, like season ticket holders when they hurt Mike Vick
Let me talk right quick, some of ya'll got it all wrong, thinkin' we just all on trying to get our ball on
We was born to teach lessons through music, receive blessings to do it, give him thanks and pursue it
The game is getting ruined, the industry is appeasing consumer's with bullshit, the real niggas is losing
But it's all good, never hollywood in the mind frame, we let the song shout listen pimpin' and ya mind change
We in another world, we keep it unexpected, its undeniable spaced out like George Jetson
It's a coldness but it's real as a heart attack, niggas know the deal like the junkies where you loiter at
We done paid dues, now its time to trade shoes, adding up my change spittin' flame over pro tools

[Chorus](2x)
DJs playing the same song
I have so much to do, have to carry on

[Verse 3: Sho Nuff & Big Marc]
Why don't you play another track, put another wack song, we all know we charge like quarters to pay phones
This the same old song, same old scratch, DJs spinnin' the same track like St. Jack
Radio will play that, twenty times a day, that's why underground artists stay underpaid
It's a game like Rucker, more like checkers, you a DJ, you suppose to break records
Some of ya'll disc jockeys take a couple of copies, knowing this that fire, you still hate it and block it
So we grind, you ain't hurting the pocket, we blowing up the stage and receive checks and deposit
It's packed when we rock it, hands in the atmosphere, along with the weed smoke, music that massage ya ears
Patience is a virtue, so we stayed strong, now paid long, even though they play the same song

[Chorus](2x)
DJs playing the same song
I have so much to do, have to carry on

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