From staircase to stage, minimum wage but soon to get an article in rap pages From staircase to stage, minimum wage but soon to get an article in rap pages
[Verse 1] I lost hope, toking a hot roach breathe in the black smoke treating these raps like a bad joke Mad broke, saving up coppers in a glass jar for a bag full of dope and a crate load of spava My flow is like a crow bar to a fast car I'm joyriding till I get to where the stars are Bling blingin like Zsa Zsa'a rings but your funny haha like Jahjah Binks I got the same faded Carhartt since '94 still hungover from the night before Head banging like thrash metal Fuck getting sucked in by the candy like Hansel and Gretal Leaving mans unsettled by the way that I drop fuck a foot in the door, I'll be breaking the lock and taking the lot So don't stand in the way of my props I'm staying hardcore while you're playing the popstar But what for? I'm not sure A couple of bottles of wine and Calvin Klien in your soft draw Thinking you got yours, nowadays Hip Hop is a lost cause Fuck rapping I'd rather mop floors or flip burgers than pay these hipocrites my lip service Spliff burning 'til we turn into sick hermits All city like bus permits when I drop rough verses flinging fakes in a hot furnace Stop acting like your not nervous on wax I've got a body of work, like rock circus Fuck tags I leave my name in the crop circles I run tracks 'cos I learnt how to hop hurdles
[Chorus] From staircase to stage, minimum wage but soon to get an article in rap pages From staircase to stage, minimum wage but soon to get an article in rap pages From staircase to stage, minimum wage but soon to get an article in rap pages From staircase to stage, minimum wage but soon to get an article in rap pages
[Verse 2: J-Zone] Fuck a job all I do is rest and dress tags writing of rubbers when I drop my next cassette Head raps beefing, bring the mad cow on Zone echos off your dome like the Shut 'em Down horns Wack demos find a place in my trash can (remember that) Right next to the swizz beats instrumental DAT They say I'm weak and a rookie Ok, thats why your mother rocks a bra with a hoody Picture me doing a backspin, or pulling a mac ten (I've been rapping since the golden age man) Shit, you was wack then Who cares about Gazelles, deep crews and fades 2G is the same I throw boos and eggs At the show she got mad 'cos I aint talking about upliftment My bad I was checking where that big booty chick went (bitch!) but I'm broke so I'm done with hoes I need a cheque that looks digital with 1's and 0's Maybe I should get a job, spitting at co-workers I'm looking up blouses but not clicking mouses and cursors Yo Harry I heard you look like Little Richard Tell 'em all (fuck off) 'cos I'm (bloody wicked)