A Hood Tale by MJangles Lyrics
The best stories are told in a cappella
My best memories came before the Roc-A-Fella
Before the major label
Feeding on major fables
Thinking if they can be a rapper, I can too
Never listening to what they say that I can't do
Told myself clear eyes, full heart, can't lose...
Used to hearing the haters sayin’ "I'm not the fella"
I'm not the guy, so I should drop the lies
Then they hear I made it they call me and say congrats bro I'm not surprised
But what about the process?
What about the secretive prior-to-fame context?...
The motivation was pure, but the kid, too insecure
They comin’ at him talking credibility
Apparently ya street rep can outweigh ya lyrical ability
Even if the fans was feelin’ me
Even if I had the qualifications like Hillary
Even if I spat heat like cannons in artillery
I "needed a certain image so I could be a real MC"
Thought to myself Smalls ya killin’ me
Wondering the reason you spoutin’ all of this villainy
What you thought this was, the lord of the rings trilogy?
Boy this ain't a fantasy I spit the shit that's real for me...
But now it ain't working
I used to think that I'd make it but now I ain't certain
Pull back the curtain, set the stage ablaze and then there come the days where I wonder is it worth it?
Too hard for underground bars got the thunder sound
"But mainstream? You too soft, dumb it down"
The fans wanted the music the people wanted the brand my hands was tied, strugglin’ on the inside...
But then I thought in my mind
I sculpted an image of lies just to survive
Rapping bout .45s and the homies who died
‘Cause the fans don't know our lives they don't see through the blinds, yeah
Took some time then I swallowed my pride
Trust me homie I tried but ya boy didn't thrive, huh
The hood sells so I started tellin’ some hood tales Like they prophesied the image became alive
Finally I stepped into the game, relishin’ in money and fame now it ain't the same
My passion lost the flame
I lost myself, got obsessed with tryna rock my wealth
Fast cars and wack bars, am I a rapper?
Yes, the real question though am I a trapper?
I guess...
‘Cause I imply it in my songs but maybe it's damn time that I deny it ‘cause it's wrong
They hear the life I'm preaching and treating it like it's glamorous
Then the bias goes against my people, whole cycle is cancerous
The media's dominants facts ‘bout most prominent blacks is if they athletes or ever been locked in the cap
They praise you if you fresh out of jail and making mixtapes
And viewers, implicitly, begin to see blacks differently...but...
I just wanted success thought the image was the recipe
Because of that I lost rhythmic complexity
So I'm the opposite of musical integrity
Ashamed to see the pics of Jay standing next to me
Should’ve stuck to the lyrics that God meant for me
When I started rappin’ I never thought that this was my destiny
So I make it up with this Hennessy
A wise man once said the game is free the hustle is sold separately
My best memories came before the Roc-A-Fella
Before the major label
Feeding on major fables
Thinking if they can be a rapper, I can too
Never listening to what they say that I can't do
Told myself clear eyes, full heart, can't lose...
Used to hearing the haters sayin’ "I'm not the fella"
I'm not the guy, so I should drop the lies
Then they hear I made it they call me and say congrats bro I'm not surprised
But what about the process?
What about the secretive prior-to-fame context?...
The motivation was pure, but the kid, too insecure
They comin’ at him talking credibility
Apparently ya street rep can outweigh ya lyrical ability
Even if the fans was feelin’ me
Even if I had the qualifications like Hillary
Even if I spat heat like cannons in artillery
I "needed a certain image so I could be a real MC"
Thought to myself Smalls ya killin’ me
Wondering the reason you spoutin’ all of this villainy
What you thought this was, the lord of the rings trilogy?
Boy this ain't a fantasy I spit the shit that's real for me...
But now it ain't working
I used to think that I'd make it but now I ain't certain
Pull back the curtain, set the stage ablaze and then there come the days where I wonder is it worth it?
Too hard for underground bars got the thunder sound
"But mainstream? You too soft, dumb it down"
The fans wanted the music the people wanted the brand my hands was tied, strugglin’ on the inside...
But then I thought in my mind
I sculpted an image of lies just to survive
Rapping bout .45s and the homies who died
‘Cause the fans don't know our lives they don't see through the blinds, yeah
Took some time then I swallowed my pride
Trust me homie I tried but ya boy didn't thrive, huh
The hood sells so I started tellin’ some hood tales Like they prophesied the image became alive
Finally I stepped into the game, relishin’ in money and fame now it ain't the same
My passion lost the flame
I lost myself, got obsessed with tryna rock my wealth
Fast cars and wack bars, am I a rapper?
Yes, the real question though am I a trapper?
I guess...
‘Cause I imply it in my songs but maybe it's damn time that I deny it ‘cause it's wrong
They hear the life I'm preaching and treating it like it's glamorous
Then the bias goes against my people, whole cycle is cancerous
The media's dominants facts ‘bout most prominent blacks is if they athletes or ever been locked in the cap
They praise you if you fresh out of jail and making mixtapes
And viewers, implicitly, begin to see blacks differently...but...
I just wanted success thought the image was the recipe
Because of that I lost rhythmic complexity
So I'm the opposite of musical integrity
Ashamed to see the pics of Jay standing next to me
Should’ve stuck to the lyrics that God meant for me
When I started rappin’ I never thought that this was my destiny
So I make it up with this Hennessy
A wise man once said the game is free the hustle is sold separately