Lyrics:
And we need to jot writtens
And please NeedleDrop critics
Or maybe use my barbed scissor arpeggio
And transplant bars into heart with some flow
And so
From all the truth that I've said
Come by it honestly I swear
I thought you saw me wink, no
I've been on the brink to
Tell me what you want to hear
It's barely been a minute
I did it
Crumbs all in the kitchen used to keep me up late
Now everyone's a critic
I get it
Those who never listen never
Power In the Tongue
By Stevie Skye “Steven Williams”
See my grandfather use to tell me that a man has 2 important things in this world, his tongue
muffa
Tunin' out the fever from the critics like fuckin' the subs
Fly like Peter Pan, go super saiyan, never need it for nothin
All these rapper fans
I think I'm my own worst critic
I think I might need a minute
I hope you know that I can't stand
Wasting time
Who could be calling at this hour?
Who
you think will be your friend the critic or the wise
Who the hell will stand by you the lover or the prize
Lose yourself to the smile of a woman
Don’t
certaint
I see you working your critics be hurting you did it for certaint
Immaculate Conception provided by you
Your beauty your aura and nature of truth
left home
On the streets of New York, now I'm free
But with freedom comes big responsibility
I used to walk around driven by the force
I remember how
The evening came, he took the stage, his face set in a smile.
And in the half filled hall the critics sat watching on the aisle.
But the concert was a blur
listen to the critics.
Stand up and bear witness.
Go slay all the dragons that stand in your way.
We stayed up and talked until the sunrise, of war
them critics
Everybody always talk that shit everyday but I never was in it
Look I did it by myself, never need a help, ain't nobody ask for that shit
education
And I’m sure this will end up online
So I don’t want to diss anyone at
The American Academy, I’m sure it’s equal to
The Art Institute of Chicago by
achievement in a critic's eyes
Only criticize, don't know the meanin
So I'm golden gleamin, and my aura beamin
Spittin twisted metal, got the kettle steamin
are open, were greeted by Odin
Call it
Valhalla
Lately, I can't seem to get in a groove, what's left to prove?
I'm all out of ideas, I can't seem
the dishes hit a peak then hit them with the kitchen sink
My inner critic's been addicted to swishing the listerine
I'm nothing clean up shits creek in
you can't hear the silence
Even when it's there. Like the wind seen from the window,
Seeing it but not being touched by it.
*
Words sometimes
your way do not be weary
Don't turn your head away
So let the critics look upon you with a thousand eyes
And let their tongues do the judging
Feeling better bout myself I made it out
It wasn't easy, had to push myself without a doubt
I keep the critics talking, something I ain't worried
I gotta get it
Can't listen to critics
I'm on my way
I'm passing the limits
I gotta get it
Can't listen to critics
I'm on my way
I'm passing
out
I’m not the same these as these n*ggas
these n*ggas get aroused by bitches
I get aroused by these beautiful women
That’s intelligent and a little
rage and they divide us by hate
Give em all an inch and then they take a fuckin mile
Gun us down, single file, executioner style
Cause issa mind game
Herd of sheep
Quite often approved by yes men and felt like critics do not deserve to speak
I Prayed for the armor then kicked open the door and decided
scarred 'cause I'm talkin revolution
What ya rather see me dead by a fuckin execution
If y'all probably go to bed, 'cause it's less confusion
All your see
.jpg/220px-The_Backyard_(album).jpg "The Backyard Critics")
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