Whose Fault

Christian ScottChristian Scott 

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Christian Scott

Christian Scott, also known as Christian aTunde Adjuah (born March 31, 1983, in New Orleans, Louisiana) is the 2010 Edison Award winner for Best International Jazz Artist and a Grammy Award-nominated jazz trumpeter, composer and producer. He has been heralded by JazzTimes magazine as "the Architect of a new commercially viable fusion" and "Jazz's young style God". more »

Year:

2019

3:11

65 Views

Playlists:

#4

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I will tear this whole fucking house down
I'm bettin' you won't do shit
Oh, really? Try me. Try me!
Come on, try me!
F*ck out my face!
Try me, bitch!
Then come on and try me!
Get out my fuckin' face, move!
What you gonna do?
Come on, don't stop here
No, I'm tired of you
Go head, go
Yeah, whatever
I've had enough!
Shut the f*ck up!

Uh
Don't put your hands on me, uh
F*ck out my phone, I already told you she my damn homie, uh
You know the buttons still hurtin', and then you gon' stand on em', uh
And have the nerve to say you'll call another man on me, whoa
I was aware of your hurt, but I didn't know what your vengeance like
How the role of the killer switch to the role of the victim?
Like why the f*ck you keep yellin', "We can't afford no eviction"? uh
On my momma, you trippin' bitch, don't be bringin' my kid in this
She say, "Nigga you ain't shit, shoulda left you where you stand
Shoulda never let you hit, I shoulda chose up on your friend
Wish your daddy was around and taught you how to be a man
'Cause you a, motherfuckin' coward, nigga, let go of my hand
I swear I hate you, I hate how you think you dumb poppin'
Nigga, f*ck Compton, act like you don't see your son watchin', uh
I'm done watchin' you f*ck him up, keep it pushin', go do you
Like he don't copy your movements and he ain't lookin' up to you that shit is boo-boo, I hate it
Know it's actually kinda crazy how you fucked your homegirl and then actually tried to blame me, like
No, I'm laughin' because I'm angry
You salty 'cause I been dating don't ask me to see your baby, fuckin' pussy"

At the tone please record your message
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Look bro, I don't know what you been on
But this is the example you want to set for your son?
Like dude, get it together
I need some me time
Your son got practice on Friday and a game on Saturday
I need you to pick him up after school
Get out your feelings

We in darkness, but we addicted to it
You say my son got a game and I need to get him to it, uh
Though I miss him, I say, "Shit, no I ain't finna do it"
'Cause I'm too pissed, I say, "No, bitch, go tell your nigga do it", uh
Another stereotype that I couldn't prove wrong
Cool with doin' me, but just not tryna let you move on, uh
The rude tone was too strong, shit, you know I just can't back down
Know you got me fucked- nah, who that nigga in your background?
I told you, bitch, don't ever have no nigga 'round my baby
I'm forever gon' be with it, bitch, don't ever try and play me
She like, "Boy you fake crazy, I bet you wish you cared then, huh?"
Then, "I bet you wish that you was there then, huh?"
I seen the truth when I was buried in my shame
We already share the pain, how 'bout we finally share the blame?
You was bitter out my bones and take the hatred out my veins, uh
Don't look for change, be the change, that's it

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