Oh, what a night, yo, that I just been through

I barely made it home from this hip-hop venue

These 2 guys, no 3 guys, no fourth, yo, this posse

Try to fake a move and bumrush me like a Nazi

Underground club where the kids are like rolling

I almost got an avalance dropped on my show and

'Cause I writes the fat raps and kids memorize 'em

I tries 'em this freestyle and boy did I surprise 'em

They said yo, that's too hype, yo, who's he think he is

He suppose to be commercial like that song about the Biz

The kid said "Masta Ace, yo what's the deal wit the switching?"

He's bitching, didn't like the rap I was pitching

You see, he was a rapper wit a single about to drop

His record label told him that he had to make it pop

Take it from me Jack, you're sadly mistaken

Alot of record labels been trying to get the bacon

By making a brother into something he is not and

You're better of and dammer on a farm picking cotton

They mold ya and shape ya, they bend and they twist ya

They get paid like quick fast and that's when they dis ya

So homeboy, you're better off coming from the heart