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