Lyrics:
bottles of Ciroc
And bowls of red grapes members of
Meek's entourage
Old friends who he now semi-employs
For a variety of unspecific tasks
Drift in and out
willed to her by her late mum). So, he didn’t treat her well, he had instilled the poverty mentality in her, so things were really difficult. Shaine’s
day
Rose gold, princess cut
Pretty face, little titties, big butt
Thugged out, she with me like "nigga what?"
Big chain on my b-boy
We walk in
But yesterday's forgotten
And tomorrow is already pass
There's no surprise
That is the state of the art, my friend
That is the state
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
This modern art that I spit
It's not no bullshit, and colossal
So pour it up, pour it up, that's how we ball out
Cause when I bomb on these niggas
records saying that we're a threat to decent society.
Fuck them. I hope we are.
What kind of depraved idiot thinks they can silence others by denying them
who are you to tell?
All you hype boys silly (silly)
You a square like Piccadilly (yuh)
I do not care how you feeling (no)
I thought you knew I'm
Ah no, they're not. No they didn't realize they were supposed to start.
Never mind, we'll soon sort that out, the judge is explaining it to them
now. I
to change my name
Y'all wasn't tryna put out my album so we did the while-you-wait shit
We went on tour, you know what I'm saying?
But eventually shit
No girl named Brian
Not a girl named Brian
And he started to shave
And have one off the wrist
And want to see girls
And go out and get pissed
This man
and now I'm slowly sinking
They say my ashes cost them a fortune
Burning me out and saying I'm important
(How am I to believe)
(Twisting and turning,
up to something
Selling cracks sack by sack so they could function?
Well, yes and no
Yes we were selling it
But no, it wasn't blow
Cook it in
Inside I am dying
But you say I'm a work of art
Lightweight, not a lightweight?
I guess I'm just a lightweight
Trying not to fall apart
I guess I'm just
gettin' by
Brunch with some Qatar royals and my cup is all oil
You know it's real when your niggas will take the fall for you
All loyal so you keep
up to something
Selling cracks sack by sack so they could function?
Well, yes and no
Yes we were selling it
But no, it wasn't blow
Cook it in
Boy clean your room
Before you miss out
On allowance
Had to Switch the beat
And gonna switch it
To another one
Had to switch to this
Because I really
you"
Now you surrounded by mothers who all know the same pain
But you still won't hear your love call out your name
So we scream theirs saying
"Know we
According to a recent tweet by Iggy Azalea
"Diss songs shouldn't be filled with
Celebrity name drops to pad out lazy bars"
I beg to differ
Rihanna
this far
Coppin' paintbrushes with black cards
There's no limit when it comes to this art
No need for twitter followers
I dodged prison
I'm
Negative thoughts out here tryna swarm me
People 'round me out here tryna form me
Ladder to success, I'm tryna climb it
Gettin' pulled down by myself
doing somersaults
Road runners don't fall off cliffs, they run across
Anomalies by the colonies flukes by the reservoir
Wildin' pursuers end up
love with the art
But see tryna find my voice was the difficult part
Left Congo when I was five, just mother and I
Black queen, I see love when I look in
and devastate him
Wipe him out, humiliate him
We don't want the whole world saying
They can't even win a game
We have never reckoned
On coming second
There's no
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