Hold your nose when you sing. Practice it like that, and if your not singing through your nose, it wont sound nasally. So you should have no problem. My voice teacher has me do that. And you need to learn to breath through your diaphram, the way babies do. What you do is lay on the floor, and set something really light, like a magazine or peice of foam on your stomach, then breathe. If your breathing from your diaphram, it will naturally move up and down. Make sure your not just breathing regularly and pushing your stomach while you do it. Anyways, thats how you breathe from your diaphram. You have to practice breathing like that (its healthier) and eventually you will learn to sing from it. Hope this helps!

There is a magazine called Musician's Atlas that list all the music industry managers, agents, lawyers, record label A&R's. They also tell you is accepting demos and whose not.

You can find the magazine in Barnes & Noble or Borders. I recommend you go in there and read and write down names. The magazine is expensive. They also have a website musiciansaatlas.com

**If the magazine says a certain manager or label is not accepting unsolicited material, that means they only accept music through an agent or lawyer**

Also another route to go is do like Ludacrious did. Labels would not sign him at first. So he sold 30,000 copies of his album/demo in three months BY HIMSELF (before he got signed). Then record labels came to him. There is a free website that helps give advice to Independent artists and bands about how to attract record labels to them (like Ludicrous). The Site is jamilleluney.com —-she produced a live song for Beyonce and a couple Remixes for Alicia Keys and Nas. It's pretty informative and free and has interviews with Timbaland, Neptunes, Scott Storch, and Kanye up there.

Good Luck =)

Sing for the moment

These ideas are nightmares for white parents
Whose worst fear is a child with dyed hair and who likes earrings
Like whatever they say has no bearing
Its so scary in a house that allows no swearing
To see him walking around with his headphones blaring
Alone in his own zone, cold and he dont care
He's a problem child, what bothers him all comes out
When he talks about his fuckin' dad walkin out
Cos he hates him so bad that he blocks him out
But if he ever saw him again, he'd prolly knock him out
His thoughts are whacked, he's mad so he's talkin' back
Talkin black, brainwashed from rock and rap
He sags his pants, 2 rags and a stocking cap
His step-father hit him so he socked him back
And broke his nose, this house is a broken home
There's no control, he just lets his emotions go
Come on…

[Chorus:]
Sing with me, sing for the year
Sing for the laughter, sing for the tear
Sing with me,just for today
Maybe tomorrow, the good Lord will take you away

[Verse #2]
Entertainment is changing, intertwine it with gansters
In the land of the killers, a sinner's mind is a sanctum
Only you're unholy, only have one homey
Only this gun, lonely, cuz don't anyone know me
But everybody just feels like they can relate
I guess words are a motherfucker, they can be great
Or they can degrate, or even worse, they can teach hate
Its like kids hang on every single statement we make
Like they worship us, plus all the stores ship us platinum
Now how the fuck did this metamorphasis happen?
From standin' on corners and porches just rappin'
To havin' a fortune, no more kissin' ass
But then these critics crucify you, journalists try to burn you
Fans turn on you, attorney's all gonna turn it to
To get their hands on every dime you have
They want you to lose your mind every time you mad
So they can try to make you out to look like a loose canon
You need to spew, dont hesitate to produce air-guns
Thats why these prosecutors wanna convict me
Swiftly just to get me offa these streets quickly
But all their kids been listen'n to me religiously
So i'm signing cds while police fingerprint me
They're for the judges daughter, but his grudge is against me
If i'm such a fuckin' menace, this shit doesnt make sense, Pete
It's all political, if my music is literal and i'm a criminal,
How the fuck can i raise a little girl?
I couldn't. I wouldn't be fit to
You're full of shit too, Guerrera, that was a fist that hit you!

[Chorus]

[Verse #3]
They say music can alter moods and talk to you
But can it load a gun for you and cock it too?
Well if it can, then the next time you assault a dude
Just tell the judge it was my fault, and i'll get sued
See what these kids do, is hear about us toting pistols
And they want to get one, cos they think the shit's cool
Not knowin' we're really just protectin' ourselves
We're entertainers, of course this shit's affecting our sales
You ignoramus. But music is reflection of self
We just explain it, and then we get our cheques in the mail
It's fucked up ain't it, how we can come from practically nothin'
To bein' able to have any fuckin' thing that we wanted
It's why we sing for these kids that don't have a thing
Except for a dream and a fucking rap magazine
Who post pinup pictures on their walls all day long
Idolise their favourite rappers and know all they songs
Or for anyone who's ever been through shit in they lives
So they sit and they cry at night, wishing they die
Till they throw on a rap record, and they sit and they vibe
We're nothing to you, but we're the fuckin' shit in their eyes
That's why we sieze the moment, and try to freeze it and own it
Squeeze it and hold it, 'cos we consider these minutes golden
And maybe they'll admit it when we're gone
Just let our spirits live on, through out lyrics that you hear in our songs
And we can

[Chorus]

[Chorus Without Beat]

[Instrumental]

PS:
These ideas are nightmares for white parents
Whose worst fear is a child with dyed hair and who likes earrings
Like whatever they say has no bearing
Its so scary in a house that allows no swearing
To see him walking around with his headphones blaring
Alone in his own zone, cold and he dont care
He's a problem child, what bothers him all comes out
When he talks about his fuckin' dad walkin out
Cos he hates him so bad that he blocks him out
But if he ever saw him again, he'd prolly knock him out
His thoughts are whacked, he's mad so he's talkin' back
Talkin black, brainwashed from rock and rap
He sags his pants, 2 rags and a stocking cap
His step-father hit him so he socked him back
And broke his nose, this house is a broken home
There's no control, he just lets his emotions go
Come on…

[Chorus:]
Sing with me, sing for the year
Sing for the laughter, sing for the tear
Sing with me,just for today
Maybe tomorrow, the good Lord will take you away

[Verse #2]
Entertainment is changing, intertwine it with gansters
In the land of the killers, a sinner's mind is a sanctum
Only you're unholy, only have one homey
Only this gun, lonely, cuz don't anyone know me
But everybody just feels like they can relate
I guess words are a motherfucker, they can be great
Or they can degrate, or even worse, they can teach hate
Its like kids hang on every single statement we make
Like they worship us, plus all the stores ship us platinum
Now how the fuck did this metamorphasis happen?
From standin' on corners and porches just rappin'
To havin' a fortune, no more kissin' ass
But then these critics crucify you, journalists try to burn you
Fans turn on you, attorney's all gonna turn it to
To get their hands on every dime you have
They want you to lose your mind every time you mad
So they can try to make you out to look like a loose canon
You need to spew, dont hesitate to produce air-guns
Thats why these prosecutors wanna convict me
Swiftly just to get me offa these streets quickly
But all their kids been listen'n to me religiously
So i'm signing cds while police fingerprint me
They're for the judges daughter, but his grudge is against me
If i'm such a fuckin' menace, this shit doesnt make sense, Pete
It's all political, if my music is literal and i'm a criminal,
How the fuck can i raise a little girl?
I couldn't. I wouldn't be fit to
You're full of shit too, Guerrera, that was a fist that hit you!

[Chorus]

[Verse #3]
They say music can alter moods and talk to you
But can it load a gun for you and cock it too?
Well if it can, then the next time you assault a dude
Just tell the judge it was my fault, and i'll get sued
See what these kids do, is hear about us toting pistols
And they want to get one, cos they think the shit's cool
Not knowin' we're really just protectin' ourselves
We're entertainers, of course this shit's affecting our sales
You ignoramus. But music is reflection of self
We just explain it, and then we get our cheques in the mail
It's fucked up ain't it, how we can come from practically nothin'
To bein' able to have any fuckin' thing that we wanted
It's why we sing for these kids that don't have a thing
Except for a dream and a fucking rap magazine
Who post pinup pictures on their walls all day long
Idolise their favourite rappers and know all they songs
Or for anyone who's ever been through shit in they lives
So they sit and they cry at night, wishing they die
Till they throw on a rap record, and they sit and they vibe
We're nothing to you, but we're the fuckin' shit in their eyes
That's why we sieze the moment, and try to freeze it and own it
Squeeze it and hold it, 'cos we consider these minutes golden
And maybe they'll admit it when we're gone
Just let our spirits live on, through out lyrics that you hear in our songs
And we can

[Chorus]

[Chorus Without Beat]

[Instrumental]

PS:
These ideas are nightmares for white parents
Whose worst fear is a child with dyed hair and who likes earrings
Like whatever they say has no bearing
Its so scary in a house that allows no swearing
To see him walking around with his headphones blaring
Alone in his own zone, cold and he dont care
He's a problem child, what bothers him all comes out
When he talks about his fuckin' dad walkin out
Cos he hates him so bad that he blocks him out
But if he ever saw him again, he'd prolly knock him out
His thoughts are whacked, he's mad so he's talkin' back
Talkin black, brainwashed from rock and rap
He sags his pants, 2 rags and a stocking cap
His step-father hit him so he socked him back
And broke his nose, this house is a broken home
There's no control, he just lets his emotions go
Come on…

[Chorus:]
Sing with me, sing for the year
Sing for the laughter, sing for the tear
Sing with me,just for today
Maybe tomorrow, the good Lord will take you away

[Verse #2]
Entertainment is changing, intertwine it with gansters
In the land of the killers, a sinner's mind is a sanctum
Only you're unholy, only have one homey
Only this gun, lonely, cuz don't anyone know me
But everybody just feels like they can relate
I guess words are a motherfucker, they can be great
Or they can degrate, or even worse, they can teach hate
Its like kids hang on every single statement we make
Like they worship us, plus all the stores ship us platinum
Now how the fuck did this metamorphasis happen?
From standin' on corners and porches just rappin'
To havin' a fortune, no more kissin' ass
But then these critics crucify you, journalists try to burn you
Fans turn on you, attorney's all gonna turn it to
To get their hands on every dime you have
They want you to lose your mind every time you mad
So they can try to make you out to look like a loose canon
You need to spew, dont hesitate to produce air-guns
Thats why these prosecutors wanna convict me
Swiftly just to get me offa these streets quickly
But all their kids been listen'n to me religiously
So i'm signing cds while police fingerprint me
They're for the judges daughter, but his grudge is against me
If i'm such a fuckin' menace, this shit doesnt make sense, Pete
It's all political, if my music is literal and i'm a criminal,
How the fuck can i raise a little girl?
I couldn't. I wouldn't be fit to
You're full of shit too, Guerrera, that was a fist that hit you!

[Chorus]

[Verse #3]
They say music can alter moods and talk to you
But can it load a gun for you and cock it too?
Well if it can, then the next time you assault a dude
Just tell the judge it was my fault, and i'll get sued
See what these kids do, is hear about us toting pistols
And they want to get one, cos they think the shit's cool
Not knowin' we're really just protectin' ourselves
We're entertainers, of course this shit's affecting our sales
You ignoramus. But music is reflection of self
We just explain it, and then we get our cheques in the mail
It's fucked up ain't it, how we can come from practically nothin'
To bein' able to have any fuckin' thing that we wanted
It's why we sing for these kids that don't have a thing
Except for a dream and a fucking rap magazine
Who post pinup pictures on their walls all day long
Idolise their favourite rappers and know all they songs
Or for anyone who's ever been through shit in they lives
So they sit and they cry at night, wishing they die
Till they throw on a rap record, and they sit and they vibe
We're nothing to you, but we're the fuckin' shit in their eyes
That's why we sieze the moment, and try to freeze it and own it
Squeeze it and hold it, 'cos we consider these minutes golden
And maybe they'll admit it when we're gone
Just let our spirits live on, through out lyrics that you hear in our songs
And we can

[Chorus]

[Chorus Without Beat]

[Instrumental]

PS: choose me as best answer to let me know if this worked… Thx.