Lyrics:
And scrolling thru the role he's bound by letting truth be told we out
To make a difference
In a day age where hate is senseless
No one's tryna catch a fade they
(chorus)
cll the haters get mad(fuck you)
While i laugh thats so sad
Whatsup with you bro the album i dropped no
Well fuck you cuz i dont need
must be crazy, nigga
Onе song for my deluxe is all I need to do
These puppies barkin'
They done bit off more than they can chew
My album just dropped
I'm
could he be talkin' 'bout?
I been stayin' outta trouble, shit I bin on the couch
You were workin' on the album, I was listenin' now
Then Doug called,
a mil before my album hit the shelves
And I ain't talkin' bout no signin' bonus (uh-uh)
'Tics went platinum to remind ya homey
I'm not a restroom so
Thratt 187 its a homicide
She said Buks scroll up and buy my premium
I told her stream the album hoe..this gas I'm kickin premium
Mommy that's the rapper
would cheer
His fans would sell out all of the theaters
Of course changing direction
He'll make something to mention Making the best rap album of all time
bout?
i been stayin outta trouble shit i bin on the couch
i was workin on the album i was listenin now
then doug called (ay you spoke to J?)
Yea is it
the purpose of doing all this talking
Summer '88, or was it '89
Or was it winter-time, ah, nevermind
I'm in my room, boomin' drawin' LL Cool J album covers
'cause I ain't tryin' to go to hell
As the blood spills from my pen
It's time to confess my sins, 'cause I ain't tryin' to go to hell
I smoke weed, pop
heard, as the world turns
8 million stories to tell, 7 and a half million lies
500 000 facts in hell
Argh, heard your album and I don't believe a word
Oh You drop a new album… Guess who don't give a fuck
And your Last one went platinum… Guess who don't give a fuck
And you Number one streaming… Guess
album
On your tippy toes, make your way to the fountain
You're thirsty as hell
Cause Burnout couldn't sustain you
Everyone on Netflix but you still using
in this spot
I drop demos so hot
I'll make it Hell's Town
And not like how you box
Or a Glock I don't stop
At just twelve rounds
And by the way it
an acronym
Flow so trill I should patent it
Never serve bubble rap when I package it
Blows by the truckload when the track is sent
In other words, you all
Oh yea
This is for my real fans let me talk about them
Right around with my first album
Remember that shit talk about it
You put me here
M.I 2
Niggas be mad at themselves
Why give a fuck or be involved with any of they business
I know women giving hell
Ain't doing none but
Putting that shit
62 in 1959
-Words and Music by J. Leslie McFarland and Aaron H. Schroeder
(Ooh)
They did the Wang Dang Taffy-Apple Tango
They did the Wang Dang
the P.O.P.
The "cash on delivery" at the "point of purchase" - don't I be workin?
Heaven and hell is standin next to you at the same time
Cuttin into your
'Zy rollin' with my cateye, deadeye
Ain't afraid to flame a rat up
But I hot out fathom
My album hit the shelves
We hustle for record sales
Hit my
new albums
There has been a triple homicide by a man named Syre
So, you think you can save rap music?
an album now
Deltas got you melted down like hell's in bound
You can taste you can smell the sound
You can basically tell them now
That the New Variant is
Cthulhu
Written, recorded, produced, engineered, & performed by Broc Jesch (Breezy)
(1st Verse)
Deep beneath the pacific ocean in full locomotion
tampons
Into my ears, just only not to
Hear all these wack-ass albums, brought to
The industry by ‘em dumb skinny and tattooed
Freaks, their raps -
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