Lyrics:
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 -
I been trynna teach em how to trap but they ain't been listening
Speaking on a game that they don't know
Like play by play from the trap via Sal
shit, sound like my old albums
Heard you boys ain't true, wanna be like my whole crew
You even got a lil' DJ, trying to be like Screw
But nigga y'all
baby, the nature of the business is unstable
Especially when your project ain't properly promoted by your label
E'ry album I put out gold or platinum,
I grab the beer, but not in the ride
'cause I'm not stupid, I don't drink and drive
I'm not a beginner, amateur or local
My album is sellin'
institution welcome to school
Boutta spank yo ass like yo principal
You all my sons like I raised you
I'm in the sun look what them rays do
Competition gets
behind you better listen up
I don’t wanna hear my name when it’s said and done
You better think before you tweet about my album son
You better think before
people crazy
Run and get your gun son you don't want none
I'm so fucked up in this place
I can't feel my face, my face
One year three number one albums
Moment of Truth 3
For those that don't know what a moment of truth be
This whole album's a moment of true heat
Roberto & Danny trying to live what
the kid up and say,
"I just want to pick like a son of a gun!"
"Whoa, boy, that ain't no damn typewriter you're playing, now.
You've got to caress it
pushing through like I'm Lupe
People still hate me like I'm Ronnie 2k
All my beats and raps equal Bron and D-Wade
I could do a whole album by my fucking
look at me now
They don't know what it takes
All these people always thought I was so fake
That I was just a dumb white boy sitting in the corner
But
I pray you find a nigga with goals and point of views
Much broader than the corner, if not it's gon' corner you
Into a box, where your son don
I don't care about your album and whenever it drop
I don't care about your past if I did I woulda asked
I'm too busy lightin 'dro with a whole lotta
Screamin', "Fuck the world," like 2Pac
I just don't give a fuck!
Talkin' that shit behind my back, dirty mackin'
Tellin' your boys that I'm on crack
I just
Screamin', "Fuck the world," like 2Pac
I just don't give a fuck!
Talkin' that shit behind my back, dirty mackin'
Tellin' your boys that I'm on crack
I just
Screamin', "Fuck the world," like 2Pac
I just don't give a fuck!
Talkin' that shit behind my back, dirty mackin'
Tellin' your boys that I'm on crack
I just
and mustard
Yeah, my cheeks are hella red but
I don't ever get flustered
Owned by a country star again
Write a song about it motherfucker church
Shoutout
I laugh in my snaps, don't chuck it
Everybody's talking light so fuck it
Boy, if I spit on your tune, I'll buss it
Yeah
Scary
(Sounds of the)
lucky, my God! Flight of Icarus in those grubby dirty by now horribly sticky little fingers and
hands and grubby palms, and oh what else is grubby, I don
he sayin': "you gon' do som'
Do it one hunnid percent or
Don't do nothin' at all"
When I was 19 I started doin' this rap
Shit and I be killin' it ever
Everybody put your hands up
Cause you know the world don't give a damn about us
Now everybody keep your hands up
Cause this cold world is showing no
What about one plus one
Jamais de fumer sans feu
Jt'au volant d'un album number on
Jamais de fumer sans beuh
J'arrete si j'le veux pis i stop if i
I know you a bitch, lil boy
So don't even trip, lil boy
I'm just tryna get rich, lil boy
I'm just tryna hit a lick, lil boy
That thang by my hip, lil
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