Shake Up (industry Diss) by O G Money
Shake Up (industry Diss) lyrics
(uh huh, it's about that time)
(going from a T-Blast, to an Industry Blast)
It's time for the music scene to stop, and wake up/
Justin B. is hot, but with a face full of make up/
Yes, this is the Shake up/ It's time for a roll call/
I'm a menace to society, but da name aint O Dog/
F.O.E. Bring heat/ Please/ get what we on/
or end up like Da Juiceman, Booed after three songs/
B.B. Kings wasn't pleased/ to me, no shocker/
OJ shouldn't have shown face like Waka Flaka/ (Flaka!)
"Going Hard in the paint", Yeah, that's my song/
While Flaka recording, Gucci Mane dancing with his mom/
"Burr" My nigga that's cold/
I hope the stunt was for sales, because he's ass couldn't go gold/
Play this song when he bomb, "This is ridiculous"/
This should be proof/ come new/ we getting sick of this/
trap rap/ you in the same pack/ as Soulja Boy/
catch feelings/ and villains/ clap like the Noila Boys/
I heard Mr. Tell 'em is beefing with Cris Brown/
Don't you know he hit a bitch? You better sit down/
This is a hit now/ Thank me for fame/
Don't get mad/ Be glad/ I called your name/
You were featured in a better song, than you can ever make/
I'm not David Blain but I'll make your ass levitate/
hungry like Ii never ate/ play this on the radio/
and change Mike Jones (Who?) to Mike Jones (Where'd he go?)/
let 'em know/ O G Money aint feelin' ya/
Rick Ross coming, better hide the paraphernalia/
Undercover cop/ and a retired P. O./
you want "the coke side of life"? better call Ne-Yo/
Hate when people speak upon what they don't know/
Cali got good for ten five, now that's a low quote/
Rappers turning actors and I aint talking Jo Jo/
but she could sit on me, and make like a yo yo/
don't rock polo, and I don't wear vans/
you like Lady Gaga, switching styles every chance/
Just dance/ because rap lost meaning/
and this happened back when T.I. Rocked the bennie/
Urban leagun getting roasted by the best/
ya'll assholes best to toast with Kanye West/
and while you're there soak game, get ya skills up/
Birdman be the name getting robbed, when the steel's tucked/
So you better kiss little wayne goodbye/
said he's the only one you kiss? So you're way passed bi/
Lil Wayne, I hope your ghostwriter can battle rap/
because you were garbage before Kurupt dropped Battlecat/
Now you all metaphors/ you and Bird a set of whores/
I'ma do you like 40 Glocc, only I wont press record/
hit you with the iron like we on the fairways/
The day I bump Nikki, is the day I wish on airplanes/
Only a few rappers in the game I respect/
Outkast, Sick wit it, and Ya Boy on deck/
Eminem go in, Bum B always Reack/
Ludacris is my nigga, Paul Wall you a vet/
So if you aint hear your name, let the beef begin/
I deliever it to your concert like the pizza man/
Hot Damn, I rock/ put me in your IPod/
even an athiest heard this shyt and said "My God"/
Cali stand up, I'ma hold you down/
O G Money the same guy who sold you them pounds/
and if you responed to this, don't expect a diss back/
just start calling Hoover niggas to try and get your shyt back/
Before I go, Congrats to Nick Cannon/
knocked up Mariah, he used hella plannin'/
Hella purse handling/ Ha he got bitched/
moved up from Drumline, now you a Hitch/
I guess that aint going to play this on the radio/
especially, when I say Lady Gaga aint a lady yo/
Damn, mayne how rude of me/
The name's O G Money, nigga go google me/
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