No Excuses: The Mixtape

by Fink

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This is dedicated to my friends and family who continuously encourage my passion for music. I love you all. Peace!


released April 20, 2010

released 20 April 2010
Executive Producer: Andrew “Fink” Finkelstein
Recorded At: The Beat Shack, Fl. and Fink’s Spot, Fl.
Mixed and Mastered At: The Beat Shack, Fl. and Circle House, Fl.
Engineered By: Derek Garcia
Mixed and Mastered By: Derek Garcia and Lu Diaz
Photography and Album Layout Design By: Michael Nyman
Additional Graphic Design: Casey Goldman and Nikki Finkelstein




Fink New York, New York

Andrew Fink is a songwriter who is based out of NYC. This website highlights Andrew's rap catalogue.

For Andrew's pop/r&b catalogue (performed by other singers), go here:
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Track Name: Intro – D.O.A (Death of Auto-Tune)
Only rapper to take 10 years to make a disk/
Age 12 when I start, 22 I begin/

Music, that's what you call it now?/
If raps dead, I'm digging the coffin now/
Pop the lock on the top, lift the carcass out/
Do a séance, so we can restart it now/
Jay made D.O.A, he a target now/
Cuz he devised the demise of what's garbage now/
But the man in the machine so watered down/
Jay ain't have to do shit, Tony Stark just drowned/
Listen, auto-tuning artists now/
Is simply over saturating the whole market now/
Do you remember, rappers used to carve a sound?/
Now nobody even think, they just talk aloud/
Its a fucked up game, we're apart of now/
The retarded garner the largest crowds/
With this hip-hop shit, yo, I'm far from proud/
Used to have to smarten up, now you smarten down/
Why the fuck would I read what they bloggin now?/
If I don't like what their songs about/
Half of em don't even read, so they speak with a jargon found/
In a red neck low class part of town/
Man, we all had public school/
So why you sound like a public fool/
Probably because you cut from school, thought it wasn't cool/
To be the sharpest in the shed, you're the dumbest tool/
Fuck you, I'm bringing the music back/
To when the dudes really used to rap/
We ain't used to that, bullshit when the music wack/
Cuz in my eyes, really no excusing that/
The truth is back, I'm bringing the music back/
To when the dudes really used to rap/
Jay said it with Drake that i can't bring the future back/
So instead I'm bringing no excuses back/

Only rapper to take 10 years to make a disk/
Age 12 when I start, 22 I begin/
Track Name: Come On Baby
My capacity for rapping rapidly has to be/
From the acid of batteries I extract and then add to me/
So when I spit my electric, rhetoric/
Exits and then connects with attendants senses/
So they can dissect it, uh - piece by piece/
Or reject ‘cuz the message is too intensive/
The second, I resent it/
But to each, fuck that, I'm the best preference/
Lyrically the best tested, yes/
I'm at least a beast, at most the goat, my flow is pro/
Y’all can't really try to put me next to so and so/
Poser hoe, gimmick, whose persona's cloned/
Every other line wrote hold gold or clothes/
Fucking women, or killing, or all the coke he sold/
I just wonder if he knows that he sold his sole/
To a business slowly going broke/
‘Cuz it keep trying to clone who sold the most/
But look at Mims, no one gave a fuck bout him/
He was hot then his flame went out/
People knew his song didn't know his name, so he faded out/
In the game if you aim to remain around/
They need to know how to differentiate you now/
Nowadays in the digital age/
It isn't just about the music, its the videos and visual aids/
So even if you twittering and getting hits on your page/
Your just another fucking face at the end of the day/
So I say that to say this (pause)/
My brain power demolish you lame cowards, I "reign" like spring showers/
I ain’t nothing to play with/
I'm devising a plan, so when this drop, no denying I am/
Everything that I stated/
No Excuses the Mixtape, listen to everything I've created/
Track Name: Verbal Invasion
Verbally my words encourage me no insecurities/
I blurt until it's perfectly worded deserting certainty/
And then I rise like/
Mercury in burning heat/
When I third degree burn a beat to emergency/
Something like a word disease/
But no infirmary heard of a cure for me or would work on me surgically/ Because I could react allergically/
So they're observing me and learning me, determining, why I'm, externally/
Spitting into to eternity with no hyperboles/
When I twist the words that I serve like cursive z's/
However it just occurred to me/
Love is blind, word to eve/
Which can explain why with rap I can “NAZI” like Germany (pause)/
But still can feel it in the air, word to Beans/
Still can spit with perfect ease, even though I don't prefer to free/
I’d only lose a battle, (only way) if my verse was verses me, and even that'd be a courtesy/
Rap is filled with perjury, but no one steal my spit till your saliva reimburses me/
That shit isn't concerning me/
I think collegiate like fraternities, whenever I rhyme like nurseries, although you probably haven’t heard of me/
Which is undeservingly/
Because I deserve to hit commercially/
But sometimes it burdens me (pause)/
Cuz my work is worthy of worship or getting undetermined currency/
But preferably I just want my words and beats to serve the streets/
And the suburbs merging these/
Into a converging piece asserting peace/
From the upper echelons to the work released/
Track Name: Feelin' It
Frequently developing/
Showing the skills, flowing for real, givin ‘em hell again/
Periodically I stay within my element/
At the table, seeing it through like some gelatin/
No skeletons are in my closet, can't expose me/
And hopefully you feeling me if you know me/
I proceed like the whole world
Watching my life/
Track 1 reasonable doubt, can't knock what I write/
I love my hustle, but its a struggle just to re-late/
‘Cuz all these rappers up on the charts simply seem fake/
Which creates a climate that I'm not accustomed to/
A fucked up view, from every consumer ‘cuz it wasn't true/
They skeptical/
Actually I feel the same way/
So I keep playing 90’s shit to give me the same space/
But feel as though its losing its mystique, the shits weak/
So instead I write some shit and try to dig deep/
You feeling it?
Track Name: Run This Town
They say you get back what you give, I put in my soul/
So, guess I'm Shang Tsung with the flow/
Yo, running the town, gunning for gold/
But I know I need to pace it so I’m running controlled/
So, tell me why were talking the town/
When it’s clear I'm the talk of the town/
I was walking as they crawled on the ground, jogging as they started walking around/
As I’m evolving they all followed my style//
Now, running it, I’m loving the speed/
See my, bed is a treadmill, I run in my sleep/
And I, keep running so I'm up in the lead/
I'm Forest Gump, who’s fucking with me, you ain’t fucking with me/
Really I could throw my luck to the breeze/
And even if you caught it, still you aren’t gonna compete/
Face it, I run shit, y’all pedestrians/
Really thinking y’all can test me then? Guess again/
Track Name: Money
I been around the world and I ain’t even famous/
Fam been rich, my apologies for saying this/
‘Cuz honestly modesty becomes you/
Class with cash, if you got it, only some do/
Class I mean, usually the ones that flash the green/
Are the same who never had a thing: young money/
This is old money, stock broke sold money/
Impeccable credit, never really owe money/
Them, they throw money, look at ‘em, they so funny/
Splurge 2 hundo, pass go money/
That's no money, dummy that's a speed boat/
Not a yacht that you got: sled hill to ski slope/
And I know what the difference is/
Son, I got my degree so I see what the business is/
No intention to patronize, but I hate you guys/
With Rap masks like a Fake disguise/16
And I aim to expose why your flows a farce/
all your cash raps show what your motives are/
We all know why your so bizarre/
‘Cuz everything about about you is like a show we know you wrote this part/
So I'm here telling y’all, and this the last time ill do it/
My wealth is healthy, accruing and affluent/
I only mention it so to Prove it that my movement/
Is only for the love, man, I do it for the music/

Fuck money
Uh, yea, fuck money
Fuck money
Fuck money

Fuck money, this is passion/
Music for the masses/
(Pause) Will you listen to me is what I'm asking/
I don't give a fuck about the cash/
All I want is recognition for my rappin/
Fuck all the (money)
Put your middle finger to the sky
If your tired of what they describe/
And you wanna find music at its truest with substance/
As far as I'm concerned all of the money rap, FUCK IT/
Track Name: What's Beef
What's beef? Beefs when the dude’s you was friends with/
Act really funny and shit, u can sense it/
Won't answer the phone, won't reply to texts's/
See u watch how their jaw tenses: friendship/
Friendships an interesting term/
If they’re in it just to get in return/
That ain’t friendship, its self-interest, but you live and you learn/
See how many fake bridges'll burn/
If you call on the friendship/
And its inconvenient/
Would your friend help immediately when your needing it?/
Or would he try deceiving you and make an excuse/
Only play the friend card when he choose/
He don’t know about friendship/
Just ‘cuz he get drunk wit you/
Don't mean he got love for you/
Anyone can smoke a blunt wit you/
But have they hung wit ya?, thru the shit has he stuck wit you?/
Doubt that, fuck friendship, let me clarify what I mean/
Ain’t talkin bout your elementary team/
That's cool if you talk every few years, keeping in touch/
But got to know the few you really can trust/
That's the 1s who your friends wit, not the familiar crew/
Ultimately there will really be few/
But I feel like it’s a blessing and a curse that I know this now/
Cuz I'm skeptical of new friends, but I know who hold me down/
A real friend’s so important to find/
A real friend is more important then pride/
You fucking serious? a real friends real, won't smile in your face/
Then when you walk away hate like a fake/
If he's real, hell address you like a man, tell you what his beef is/
Real Friends don't keep beef secret/
Peep it, uh, that's some weak shit, cowardous/
Leaving somebody you cared for powerless/
So now I just, consider, do you realize/
You killed ties telling yourself real lies to feel fine/
You will find few are true/
But do what you choose to; I'm through with you/
Fuck it
Track Name: Purple
Have you ever felt distant/
From who you hold in your heart, getting older and your growing apart/
Some would label it maturity,
While that isnt totally false/
I just don't think that it's the only cause/
Think about how frequently you and your homie would talk/
Went from every week, down to month, slowly it stops/
Staying connected gets harder, priorities change/
But if it really is your homie you should know ‘em the same/
People move in new directions, usually progressin/
But ultimately who you know to be is at the essence/
At the core of him, so if you feel that he switched/
Think back ‘cuz its still who he is/
I bet you that you can recall, all of his motives then/
Now just think about your role in them/
All his motives the same, but probably your role in ‘em changed/
Or vice versa, if you feel you both are estranged/
Which explains why you’re in the position your in/
Looking at who you considered your friend, guessing again/
You were never friends, if your ever growing apart/
Though it’s fucked up, you just didn't know him to start/
Track Name: Today (Produced By BEATS Bailey)
What can I say i graduated"/
"Congratulations, Fink, I'm glad you made it"/
But Its sad in a weird way, ‘cuz that chapters done/
And i can't rehash my run/
Yea, no doubt that the Past was fun/
But need to move past it and stash some funds/
"so, (pause) what you gonna do?" Good question/
I love music, gonna make it my profession/8
"Are you suggesting the business side/
Or the rap musician side"/
I don't know, feel conflicted, real mixed inside/
If I, (pause) don't spit will I live a lie?/
But can-I, (pause) live if my ambition dies?/
I like business too, but I live to rhyme/
I know its, (pause) my life, the decisions mine/
But what about the Finkelsteins? Will they think its fine?/

I dono

"Today I feel like pleasing you more then before/ (to my family)
Today I know what I want to do but I don't know what for"/

I know what I want to do, that's simple/
Write words to an instrumental/
But if I continue, going at the pace I have/
I'm just gonna have to face that fact/
That it’s only a hobby if I don't pursue it from here/
If I don't view it as a music career/
How can I prove in the mirror that there's really no excuses to share/
If I don't do it for my future, is that true and sincere?/
I used to say school interfered/
But now the only interference is confusion and fear/
Yea, the stakes are high/
Did I really graduate to rhyme?/
Plus tuition expensive, and my fam paid for mine/
So that I wouldn't have to slave and grind/
But if I aim to rhyme, that's gonna be my means/
If I wanna try to break inside/
And claim fame as mine, so do I wanna take a try?/
Or say fuck it, "lets play it safe this time?"/
-So I please you

I dono

(Chorus: jefferson airplane sample):
"Today I feel like pleasing you more then before/ (to my family)
Today I know what I wanna do but I don't know what for"/

Damn, how can I solve this?/
And not, feel, like I am wrong in the process/
My conscience exhausted, it just wanna guide me right/
(Pause) But it can't conquer the compass/
Lost in a conflict, at a fork in the road/
-To be a rapper or a corporate clone/
Can I make both paths converge? Or is that absurd?/
Na, I think that could work/8
But I would have to, get a job that's concerned/
With rap, or, music, so I can actually learn/
And justify not trying to be a rapper first/
Plus my family'll be glad, that's for sure/
And that's deserved, so a 9 to 5 in the game/
Will help and teach me how to thrive in the game/
So I eventually can climb in the game/
And be a rhymer in a dominant way,
But for now, I'll be honest and say/
I’ma wait for it

"Today I feel like pleasing you more then before/ (to my family)
Today I know what I wanna do but I don't know what for"/
Track Name: Get Left Behind
Let it be known I'm back in my zone, adderalled out/
Running with bulls I'm a matador now/
Red cape, black glove, white half mask/
(Pause) A phantom in the ring with flag half mast/
For soldiers dying in war/
With no family, and no legacy, this rhyme is for y’all/
For y’all I put my life in the song,
Write it despite of the wrongs/
Because society decide on what's wrong/
Armstrong I just cycle along, like lance/
With balls yo, regardless what he hold in his pants/
To live strong or die weak, something to ponder/
‘Cuz the strength only come when its harder/
No shortcuts to achieve, George W. Carver/
Watch me, like Gandhi, from a starver to martyr/
Like the Buddha, I'm apart of Siddhartha, and he's part me/
‘Cuz Partly in my heart is nirvana/
And I'm searching for the rest of the pieces/
But what I seek is, keeping me from what will achieve it/
Some of y’all follow my plight, ‘cuz to reach it/
Mean I didn't crave it, and I know that I need it/
Herman Hesse novel on the Gotama, read it/
So you can understand what I'm speaking in these lines/
These rhymes, no dumbing it down/
Smarten up when I'm coming around/
Or get left behind/
Track Name: Classic
For what its worth, every verse's been revised/
Spit ‘em again and again, then I decide/
Once I memorize if I should release it/
Or if I should put it with the other unreleased shit/
Can I find a beat that, matches the flow and the content/
Or should I keep it, see if somebody would want it/
Na na, I'm geeking, ain’t got the fame to get ‘em placed yet/
Patience, Detox 2, I’ll write a Dre hit/
Say it, you don't think I have the drive/
You don't think I have the passion to master mine/
Well your wrong I'm a mother fucking mastermind/
Even those who know me, don’t know the half of mine/
They don’t know about half my grind/
They don’t know when I'm alone in my ride, how I practice rhymes/
Write down new lines just to pass the time/
Got a Garmin to multitask: rap and drive/
Hoping that I won't crash and die/
But ill die for rap, uh, so if I pass its fine/
Give me a track and ill show u how I craft the rhyme/
Give me some time, and observe how this rapper climbs/
To be classic
Track Name: Bonus - The Countdown Has Begun... (No Excuses Promo)
Spit off the top hot for the krumlife show/
One life to live and there's only one mic so/
I gotta nas it, while I let my man Krum blog it/
Grand slam y’all on some pog shit/
New kid using an old school logic/
Hot as a volcano from those old school projects/
Back in my old school, before I could walk yet/
Before I stacked raps, I stacked Lincoln log sets/
Pause it, let's progress, welcome to my college/
Just was abroad on some Prague shit/
But now I'm back (pause) got an apartment/
Red road commons, living how I want it/
Problems? Only 1, R. Kelly’s in my closet/
Was pissed off, when he pissed on my Lacoste shit/
(That’s fucked up) So I pressed charges/
Against R. Kelly’s little hostage for dodging/
Though the Judge thought it was harmless/
He still had Eminem clean out my closet regardless/
I'm Fink, my bars are a problem/
If talks cheap I'm raising the cost with my jargon/
Used to whip a civic now its porches/
Ha, I'm lying, but I'm tryna upgrade my parking/
So pardon me, but when I just blaze a beat/
Its “Fabolous” like I made you breath/
Spitting lines at the sky so the stars'll meet/
I create every constellation/
The embodiment of modern day god, but don't need any consecration/
Give me some but I'm not Jamaican/
And a mother fucking microphone.../
Matter fact gimme a pencil, pen, or a device and ill type a song/
Yea, Baltimore, that's my rightful home/
Rep the Ravens, but never really liked the O's/
This my life in poem, a modern John Keats/
Or Lord Byron, a raw Paul Simon/
But I'm Fink, this is what you call rhyming/
In 1 week my shits dropping, cop it/