I put my life on the line
I roll that dice and I'm fine
Cuz all I ever dreamt about was making it
They aint giving it, Im taking it
Im taking it, taking it, I aint giving it
Im taking it, taking it, I aint giving it
Im taking it, taking it, I aint giving it
Im taking it, taking it, I need all that shit
If I just went in and stole it
The police wouldve noticed
Gotta be strategic, Im creepin
Go and leave with that motive
Hold up, my plan is stormin
All right, casin this building
Watch these rappers step back
And walk in and leave that with millions
Cut of that sweater, open that front door
"Interscope" printed out by the entrance door closes
Not metaphor, then I start chorus
That part, thats right, meaning shotgun
Dressed in an uniform, looking like a janitor
All blue, jumpsuit, why shoot?
Bloodthirsty and Im eatin like a bull
Looking in the eyes of the matador (fuck you!)
Carrying 2 cans of paint
Security looks at me awkward
I say third floor Im late
Painting Jimmy Iovine's office
And my breath bout to faint
Im scared to death that he stops me
Heart beating so loud you can hear the echo in that lobby
And see I break it down if I dont make it out
Then Im leaving town with that contract
And Im spazzing out, cover the in or out
This chair and Im picking them hostages
I dont give a fuck, step into the elevator press three
Now Im headed up (nice!)
Where they dont know theres a gun in the paint can
And Im ready and willing to bust em,
I'm fucking desperate
stuck in this recession not what you think
But if I get out my luck is destined
My future, depends on ink
And secretary at the front of the entrance staring right at me
I walk out, she whispers go ahead and then gives me a wink
I put my life on the line
I roll the dice and Im fine
Cuz all I ever dreamt about was making it
They aint giving it, Im taking it
Im taking it, taking it, I aint giving it
Im taking it, taking it, I aint giving it
Im taking it, taking it, I aint giving it
Im taking it, taking it, I need all that shit
If I pass security, the secretary, the cubicals
But its weird, its like this room Ive walked into is unusual
Better be styli and beautiful
Better be alive and like musical
But it feels like someone died, its got the vibe of a funeral
These numbers on the chalkboard
CDs boxed in cardboard
All these the blocks that got dropped and never got to be sophomores
Graphic designers are sitting around
Waiting for albums that never come out
Complainin that they have nobody in the house
Wonderin what they make art for
I start thinking, am I in the right place? Just walk towards
See plaques on the wall
Oh yea, in a second those will be all yours
Finally see an office with a melted sign, heaven sent
Big block silver letters, read it out loud: President
This was my chance to grab that contract and turn and jack
I can feel a cold hand grab on the back of my neck
He said: weve been watching you, so glad you could make it
Your music, it's so impressive in this whole band you created
You one hell of a band, we here think youre destined for greatness
And with that right song we all know that youre next to be famous
Now Im sorry, Ive had a long day
Remind me, now what your name is?
Thats right, Macklemore
Of course, today has been crazy
Anyway, you ready?
Well give you a hundred thousand dollars
After your album comes out well need back that money that you borrowed
So its really like a loan?
Alone? Come on, no!
We're a team, 360 degrees, we will reach your goals!
Well get a third of the merch that you sell out on the road
Along with the third of the money you make when youre out doing your show
Manager gets 20, booking agent gets 10
So shit, after taxes you and Ryan have 7% to split!
Thats not bad, Ive seen a lot worse
No one will give you a better offer than us
I replied I appreciate the offer, though that this is what I wanted
Rather be a starving artist than succeed at getting fucked