Greed Bling and the Game

They say the clothes make the man
but the MAN makes the clothes
He tells you ain't shit without these kicks
makin sure you maintain the ghetto mentality
not carin' about how they can cause a Fatality
i wish it was fiction but it's all a reality
the amount of killins over gear proves human mortality
while you shop to satisfy your Id
just remember it was made by some little kid
buyin' somethin cuz u simply adore it
remember that it was made by someone who never wore it
let alone can they afford it
a line around the corner for some 'FUCKIN Jordans
Shit is enough to make you sick
Why go around jockridin on some multimillionaires dick?
i'll be damned if i take a $150 pair of shoes off the shelves
if i do motherfuckas betta tie themselves

I'll be damned if i become the product of these products
Producing young minds into buying out stores and selling out dreams
And selling these things to support the habit
Of just wanting to
have shit
And i see the greed in their eyes
In the eyes of these guys cryin and dyin to jus be seen
Bleeding and feindin for the glance of fame on the tv screen
Finding love in nothing but green fading dreams into C.R.E.A.M
And i want to resurrect him and strip him of clothes
To show him love and let him know im not here for a fasion show

Selling these things for bling and supporting these melodramatic rappers
who by the way, are just 2-bit overpaid actors
Matter of fact, the facts of the matter is they borrow the shit they rock
so remember that the bling u dyin to cop rappers is doin the same thing
they as desperate as you for that brolic chain swing
so as you reach out to snatch a touch of bling stop wonder ponder and think
is a taste of bling
the platinum chain swing what you really need?
or is it something to satisfy your greed?
Greed is a state of mind
it infects everyone time after time
that's all you here from rappers line for line, rhyme for rhyme
this need for and love of greed helps continue this nations state of malcontent and unsuccesful fashion shows

Greedily infecting the weak willed children...souls on sale for shit in front of buildings. Building blocks upon bricks and its times like these that i WISH the block was hot. Times like these where i peeped those crack rocks for their ears. Contaminating drums wit beats so tired lulling us to whack rapper's lonely dreams. Seemingly blind to this plague of living soley to get paid. Homicide invading the space between the headphones and the brain. And sometimes i wanna cry and do some phenominal Graffiti on the trains of thought of these MC's gone bad. Give them some dope metaphors that i never even knew i had. If i had limbs that long i'd hug all these candy-rappers and build some strong chemistry...but until then...mothaFUCK the industry