Smoke

🎤 “Smoke & Mirrors” 🎤

(Pop Smoke x Tupac-inspired)

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Uh, industry dirty, blood on the dollars,

Contracts like coffins, buryin’ ballers.

Labels feedin’ you lies on a platinum plate,

But the steak still poisoned—hope you like the taste.

Big suits pull strings in the backroom,

Turn kings into puppets, playin’ outta tune.

Yeah, they sell you the fame, but they rent you your soul,

Put a leash on your neck, then call it control.

See, they pushin’ the trends while they pullin’ the chains,

Got the youth in a loop, numbin’ they brains.

Smoke screens in the game, dawg, you don’t see it?

They sell rebellion but own the spirit.

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Ohhh, I see the lies in the light,

They feed us wrong, make us feel right.

Ohhh, the game is all disguise,

Got us livin’ in a system they designed.

Smoke and mirrors, fake and fiction,

Every contract like a crucifixion.

Smoke and mirrors, fake and fiction,

Every contract like a crucifixion.

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Listen—yo, I’m a rebel with a cause, a prophet in a pause,

Watchin’ rappers sell they soul for applause.

You see the diamond chains, the cars, the fame,

But you don’t see the pain, the loss, the shame.

They poison the beats, push drugs through the speakers,

Sell trauma as art, turn pain into sneakers.

Yeah, they put us in cages, then pay us to fight,

While they sippin’ champagne, watchin’ from the flight.

I seen brothers sign deals, get lost in the hype,

Now they chained to a mic for the rest of they life.

This industry is slavery, but in designer clothes,

Modern plantations where the artist grows.

And the truth? They don’t want you to find it,

Keep you entertained so you stay blinded.

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Ohhh, I see the lies in the light,

They feed us wrong, make us feel right.

Ohhh, the game is all disguise,

Got us livin’ in a system they designed.

Smoke and mirrors, fake and fiction,

Every contract like a crucifixion.

Smoke and mirrors, fake and fiction,

Every contract like a crucifixion.

⸻

Woo! Ayo, big racks, small freedom,

Labels treat you like cattle, they just breed ‘em and bleed ‘em.

Rappers dancin’ for pennies while the suits get fat,

You a puppet on a string, they controlin’ the act.

They sellin’ rebellion in pre-packaged chains,

Then gaslight the masses, keep ‘em numb in the brain.

I see the puppet masters laugh in the back row,

Countin’ blood money from the front-row show.

Woo! This game cold, it got no heart,

Sacrifices get made before you even start.

Yeah, they sign you with the left, rob you with the right,

Then light a Cuban cigar and toast to your fight.

⸻

Ohhh, I see the lies in the light,

They feed us wrong, make us feel right.

Ohhh, the game is all disguise,

Got us livin’ in a system they designed.

Smoke and mirrors, fake and fiction,

Every contract like a crucifixion.

Smoke and mirrors, fake and fiction,

Every contract like a cru