Lyrics:
P!
Real artists
Fake artists
Hot artists
Wack artists
Hard artists
Soft artists
I'm addressing all artists
I'm a prisoner, a slave to this
Blew my check on a ticket
To your concert Morgan Wallen
And you canceled it the night of the show
Now I'm cussing my dumb luck
Because tailgating
a fuck
I don't give a, I don't give a, I don't give a fuck
I'm willin' to die for this shit
I done cried for this shit, might take a life for this
zoom
Zoom, zoom, zoom
Zoom, zoom, zoom, zoom, zoom
Zoom, zoom, zoom
Zoom, zoom, zoom, shit
Life to me like a box of chocolate
Quid pro quo,
Oh shit I I can't believe it
I'm bout to become a artist
Remember from where I started never thought I'll become a artist!
Lets turn it up at the bar tonight
So we can drink and talk shit right
All I really need is two beers and ah
Country shuffle to some Morgan Wallen
Lets
medication
We'll have more on this story as it develops"
"Shady Records recording artist Obie Trice
Has apparently survived a gunshot to the head
In what
it love
artist artist artist
artist artist artist
artist artist artist call it love
you should know "You don't get shit straight if you don't
Let me guess, another album about, "Poor me
I'm so famous, it has ruined my rich little life
And I'm such a tortured artist, let me make music about
folks, ecstasy capsules
Presidential scandals, everybody move
Two words, Mos Def, K West, hot shit
Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this
Game
going exploring
I heard you talking shit bout me, talking that horseshit
I'll bash your head with a fucking handle of Morgan's
I got your bitch coming
of, you know, the artist's journey
You know, and why we do what we do
And that's a really big thing for me as of late
Like, not doin' work to feel
that shit down, ooh, yeah
You ain't never ball like this
Tone that shit down (oh why?)
Tell me who can ball like this
Tone that shit down
Who you
I’m an artist
Artist
I live for the life I create
I’m an artist
Artist
An artist
Artist
And I’m sensitive about my shit
So much to say
At the same
you say that these days?
He doesn’t know how!
Fucking Morgan Freeman!
Morgan Freeman
Morgan Freeman
Morgan Freeman
Morgan Freeman
I do this shit
wanna talk
Every artist wanna be the same shit
Every artist wanna say the same shit
Every artist wanna take the same shits
From the city where the rappers
In the shit house a shotgun
Praying hands hold me down
Only the hunter was hunted
In this tin can town
Tin can town
No stars in the black
In the shit house a shotgun
Praying hands hold me down
Only the hunter was hunted
In this tin can town
Tin can town
No stars in the black
shit
[Girl:]
Oh yeah?
[Tech:]
Come come over here
I got some other artists
[Girl:]
Oh yeh cuz?
[Tech:]
You might like some big scoob shit
have my way I could
Have flayed him into shape
But my hands were tied
The bleeding hearts and artists
Let him get away with murder
Let me hammer him
yo' shit)
Seven, eight, better stay awake (better stay up late)
Nine, ten, he's back again (back again)
Eleven, twelve, he escaped from hell (huh)
to Akademiks
Say this shit is trash again, I'll have you twisted
Like you had it when you thought you had me slippin' at the telly
Even when I'm gettin'
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