Lyrics Every Record Label Sucks Dick - R.A. the Rugged Man
Every
record
label
sucks
dick
[x4]
Every
record
label,
(Every
record
label)
They
suck
dick!
(suck
dick!)
Fuck
the
new
clothes,
sport
shitty
jeans,
fuck
the
limousines
When
the
ho
schemes
you
end
up
with
no
beans
There's
only
50,
000
heads
that
are
true
to
this
The
rest
are
clueless
to
what
real
hiphop
music
is
Plus
the
labels
think
that
artists
are
pathetic,
I
don't
sweat
it
If
they
take
the
credit
I
will
send
them
to
the
medic
The
industry
will
gas
your
head
up,
you
ain't
shit
to
them,
don't
get
fed
up
'Cuz
when
you're
down
and
out
they
won't
help
you
get
up
They
sit
around
creating
gimmicks,
sky's
the
limit,
but
to
him
it's
A&R
men
act
like
schizophrenics
Fuck
the
negative
reviews,
I
sing
the
blues
'Cuz
if
I
blow
up
I
still
lose
Now
how
can
the
musicians
be
the
scholars
When
they're
making
less
than
four
percent
of
six
dollars?
Most
of
the
kids
that
kick
a
rap
just
don't
deserve
opinions,
acting
like
critics
Looking
like
Richard
Simmons,
now
they're
sporting
Timberlands
And
I
ain't
trying
to
be
accepted,
but
it's
hectic
When
you
try
to
sell
you
records
and
your
record
label
don't
respect
it
Now
all
these
promotional
stunts
gets
me
emotional
Not
hospitable,
I'll
never
recoup
so
it's
not
profitable
And
I
can
end
up
as
white
trash
living
in
a
trailer
park
Eating
tuna
fish
with
my
Cheez
Whiz
"So
how
you'd
get
your
job
in
the
black
music
department?"
Since
I
was
growing
up
that's
where
my
heart
went
I
won't
be
going
out
like
Kurt
Cobain,
or
Tattoo
"Da
plane,
da
plane!"
Jibba
jibba
jib
Shane!
So
if
my
sales
don't
exceed
the
expectations
My
relation-ships
will
be
Uzi
clips
and
decapitations
'Cuz
the
fact
is,
technically,
I
need
a
vasectomy
No
pregnancy,
kids
got
the
tendency
to
be
sweating
me
So
do
your
own!
Them
scumbags
is
making
moneybags
In
the
meantime,
your
Karl
Kanis
turn
to
rags
'Cuz
labels
don't
know
shitty
rappers
from
any
rappers
So
listen
rappers,
they
only
know
how
to
pinch
a
penny,
rappers
I
end
up
bankrupt
and
penniless,
while
you
remain
the
rich
man
My
fist
is
up
your
ass
to
rip
your
lips
off
This
ain't
the
rock
and
roll
era,
so
how
could
you
know
what's
worse
or
better?
Chilling
in
your
polyester
sweater
A
big
advancement
doesn't
make
the
move
the
wisest
'Cuz
Def
Jam
offered
me
more
loot
than
Jive
did
And
the
executives
at
labels,
they
about
equal
to
McDonald's
workers
They
all
down
to
jerk
us,
trying
to
keep
us
poor
on
purpose
They
expect
that
respect
that
they
don't
give,
so
don't
think
that
it's
negative
If
you
don't
want
to
let
a
record
executive
live
Now
pretty
bitches
wind
up
giving
up
they
butts
But
I'm
used
to
busting
nuts
in
stank
perverted
sluts
Just
the
thought
of
getting
signed,
you
masturbated
Can't
you
see
the
industry
is
gold-plated?
"He
sounds
like
Ice
Cube,
let's
sign
him!
He
sounds
like
Onyx,
let's
sign
him!
He
sounds
like
that
shit
that's
hitting,
let's
sign
him!"
I'd
be
biting
people
and
spitting
blood
at
the
entire
music
industry
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