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The Emcee.Golden Child.we Crafty...yo G I had this crazy dream last night man.the world was upside down yo.everybody was tryin' to get in the industry.all I could say was...(chorus)I swear ya'll where's the fans ya'llain't nobody even sittin' in the stands ya'llyou rap? manage? produce? what?aw shut the fuck upits like I went to sleep last night and things were all finewoke up all of a sudden everybody rhymesthats how the shit seemseverytime I turn around all I hear is "yo let me spitsixteen"is it me or do I gota sign on my foreheadthat says “wanna get signed? just rhyme go head!”all this rappin got me stressinI wonder if this only happens in my professionlike when Jordan had the number one spotyou think they ran up on him like you gota see my jumpshotI don't know maybe its just meLetras de cancionesbut you should need a license to call yaself a emceeyou must be jokin right you aint dope or tightand peep what happened last night at the open micwhen they called for heads to go up and spitthe whole club got on stage aint that some shit(chorus)I swear ya'll where's the fans ya'llain't nobody even sittin' in the stands ya'llyou rap? manage? produce? what?aw shut the fuck upI swear ya'll where's the fans ya'llain't nobody even sittin' in the stands ya'llyou rap? manage? produce? what?aw shut the fuck upI'd be platinum believe ya earsif I sold every demo I received in the last three yearsI aint braggin but I been around the world tourinyou never left ya house you just stay on the forumsopen for criticism everytime I spit itbut who the fuck died and made you the head criticbe the ones with no talent whinin howalways got somethin to complain about like Simon CowellI woulda made the first verse the thirdmore ad libs and before the chorus add a bridgelike you got the formula for makin a hitonly time you ever drop somethin nasty is takin a shitif you got somethin to say make it legitbut it seems like these bastards aint gonna quitsee they'll dis you knowin that their raps aint officialturn around and be like can I do a track with you(chorus)I swear ya'll where's the fans ya'llain't nobody even sittin' in the stands ya'llyou rap? manage? produce? what?aw shut the fuck upI swear ya'll where's the fans ya'llain't nobody even sittin' in the stands ya'llyou rap? manage? produce? what?aw shut the fuck upI know you feel like everyday you get a bit closerin your room dolo spittin to Jay's posterits cools to chase dreams but I'd adviseyou play it safe don't quit ya 9 to 5that's just reality stop duckin itlike eatin steak with a butterknife you aint cuttin itoh cause he ya cousin you got him on the trackdemo didn't even make it to the bottom of the stacksick of so-called producers yall get tiredkick the same sales pitch “yo my shit is fire”if that's true get ya turn to see mebut ya beats aint even hot enough to burn a cdthey never fail to blow my hightalkin bout I manage so and so and did blah blah blahI sign autographs shake hands and never thinkcause nowadays fans are damn near extinct(chorus)I swear ya'll where's the fans ya'llain't nobody even sittin' in the stands ya'llyou rap? manage? produce? what?aw shut the fuck upI swear ya'll where's the fans ya'llain't nobody even sittin' in the stands ya'llyou rap? manage? produce? what?aw shut the fuck up.where they at...nobody...where they at...nobody... From Letras Mania