A.J. Throwback - Independence Avenue
ManI remember sitting 'round my momma house
Writing letters to these major labels
Just hoping to get my foot in the door
But between lackluster responses
And all the horror stories
I'm looking at these bammas like
"Need Y'ALL?" For what
It's probably better my conception was eventual in measure
Otherwise, I'm contesting why investors had me fettered
Either follow these behests or be beheaded, depressing
I could jester, be the 1827 Stepin Fetchit, eff it
Extra efforts, turkeys kept forgetting cheddar
Toasters on deck, you bred this hell, man, now it's tomato red rebellions
So screw that Deuteronomy philosophy
Coming for my neck? Get a tighter noose and stronger trees
Ain't no differences 'tween my dividends
And any women in my lens: need 'em thick, I'm talking real figures
So while I'm sowing seeds to succeed
I'll be damned to wait a cotton-picking minute, ain't a field nigger
Slave papers, contracts, all synonymous
Losing sovereignty for poverty, you're not autonomous
So while these lames on the Tube, showing stacks off
Might as well be chained, eating gruel, wearing sackcloth
Too articulate, meticulous in sentences
To consciously diminish any lyric in my penmanship
Limited? That diss is not attributed
BJing these Sams to get in clubs? Not incentive for their membership
March to Gladiator drums, fear the timpani
To feel this, gotta meet us on the moon, hear the symphony
Constellations make my standard up, of the God who made the universe
Don't pigeonhole me to a planet, Bruh (DON'T DO IT)
I been a Lone Ranger, ask Tonto
Weirdo of the pack sans Gonzo
Flipped my lack of flash into a world class art show
Expanded that to hot flows, Basquiat of rap slash Picasso
Five-year-old who wouldn't take his blazer off to sleep
'Bout my business all the time, ain't no shaving off to cheat (Peep)
Evidence of culture in my blood? Check my first bus
Hip hop emerged turning curses into surplus (GET MONEY)
Now the advent of the Internet
Far surpassed sliced bread as the best invention yet
Advertising, publishing, distribution, stream service
Indie artists, here's your new birth, go'on and dream, merchant
True, it's more dirt for me
But I don't mind digging my own land, I work for ME (ME)
I ain't hurt or beat if others seem to pass me in the race
I'm a king, walk around wearing "MASTER" on my face (YEA)
I would rather hustle for my clientele
Than go through art development recalling cat o' nine tails
Prefer the profit over charts, so bump the monsters trying to conquer
Dinosaurs: y'all are not the momma or the poppa
Razzi probably never catch me on a fancy yacht
I'd rather starve on my own than be a glutton eating caveats
Freedom is my latitude, only makes sense
Where my copyrights are sent, I been on Independence Avenue
Written by:
Joseph Goings
Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
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