Alyssa Marie – "Whoop Ass Season" (Prod. The DopeBoyz)

Album out NOW:…/louder-than-words/id1130280803
Facebook/Twitter/Instagram: @alyssamarieraps
Snapchat: alysssamariiie

@DopeBoyzMuzic on all social media

A Row Five Production
Director: Michael Schwarcz
Producer: Itai Forman
Director of Photography: Connor Lambert
Edited by: Raymundo Archila
Production Designer: Arman Gosparini
Makeup: Jessica Lewis
1st AC: Carolina Rodriguez
Gaffer: Casey Stolberg
Key Grip: Dylan McGale
Swing: Tom Vatterott
Art Assistant: Greg Schroeder
Art Assistant: Charlie Benson


do i really have to be one of those rappers? complain how the game has been so backwards?
raving about the old fashioned days when the flow mattered
when passion and skill were the sole factors in building a status quo
when talent would go platinum and gold cuz it actually sold
hold up – I gotta scold you rookie rhymers?
am I supposed to sit and overlook in silence?
you forgot your role? i know some good reminders
kill your own career and sign the death notice with the same pen that you wrote your book of rhymes with took my kindness as a weakness
that’d be your first mistake made and final inconvenience
where you crossed the line between us
had to see that I take pride in my achievements
i don’t need your fake alliance or allegiance
see when I configure the change, figure they’re sick of the same
bigots that’s rigging the game – indicative vigor the wicked’ll reign with,
digging a big enough figurative grave to fit every literal brain
definitive thinking they’re thinking is sane
they didn’t consider the way they’re sitting could change the picture the image engrained
the bigger the gain, the bigger the loss
start the climb a little bit small
I’m making the wall fall one tiny brick at a time beginning with yours
so when its all been said and done, have you done what you said or not?
I’ve let a lot slide and it’s about time to settle the pot
still I gotta hand it to you – that little game you run is really i quite impressive
but what happens when they face your fronting from the right perspective
with a slight directive change, where the cycle degenerates
and the walls are closing in as you lie tied to the bed you made

1, 2, 3
oh you think you got me? make a move and we can see
3, 2, 1
try to run, but the demolition has begun

you wanna talk about the root of evil? it aint dollar bills, it’s stupid people
who thinking they’re spilling knowledge and fools believing it’s real
well.. how’s it feel? when you’re not as ill as you claim to be?
exaggerated symptoms, malingering, faking blatantly
dealing it faithfully you feel you’re phasing me
if i wasn’t there a day your entire career couldn’t fill the vacancy
what am i, supposed to make believe your rhymes aint dime a dozen
pay a penny for your thoughts inside the senseless mind you’re stuck in
’cause nothing amounts to shit without money put where your mouth is
sell your soul but can’t buy a dream with a human worth that’s counterfeit’s pretty obvious your best bet’s to resign
your little mind suffers napoleon complex next to mine,
you’re a scared dog on a leash that’s barking, marking it’s territory
seems hard but step in his yard and it’s a separate story
it’s all in the metaphor, but it’s far from authentic
id call you soft in my songs if your bars aint already said it for me
and actions speak louder than words, haven’t you heard?
tryna survey for some life in the aftermath of an earthquake
leave your ass in the dirt for the birds, you’re making it worse
by recycling wordplay that you should’ve trashed in the first place
not bashing you per se, just saying..not with your best verse on my worst day
the truth hurts, play my tracks with a first aid
said I’m done giving passes
level the site with dynamite and when it crashes build a better one in it’s ashes

1, 2, 3
oh you think you got me? make a move and we can see
3, 2, 1
try to run, but the demolition has begun


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