They say I know you don’t do the freestyle thing no more
But since you do it better than somebody else
Well, you know ! For show !
You know I gotta keep it’ though !
Oh, mix-tape God, go !
I know I’m not God, that’s blasphemy
The good is I don’t have to be
While I would turn to a beach resort
And kick you all out and live happily.
You’ll see how rhetoric these rappers be
Like I get out of shore, bus after three
Get Instagram, take pics with guns
Snitch on your cell, you’re reach at the’
No stitching ’ cause I’m different fan
No Twitter cam, I don’t need to mention
They always told me that money talks
That’s who I wanted to pay me attention !
I’m young done, never went to prom
Genius kid that wouldn’t leave detention
When the teacher said that I’d never blow,
I said, ’don’t count my pockets till you see my pension !’
I was plotting moves,
I was carving scriptures into the desk.
That was middle school,
So track down the desk and figure out the rest, oh yes !
I must confess, I see you, but I am not impressed !
I see along the side talking cash
They done talking when they see me in flesh.
Can’t cut your tongue, and cough up the lung
Just’ at your hands and then hold your breath
If I want opinions I ask for that
Just stay in your boundaries, don’t overstep !
Back on the porch, we sat on the steps
While we all argued about who’s the best.
And now I sit behind suicides
With AC on I came fresh to death.
They ain’t stars, these rappers good for like 8 bars
Rappers looking for like 8 balls
Get in the pockets, then take all !
These activist ain’t active to me
Ain’t standing up for your fake cards.
Most of y’all suspecting me
As a pastor that just bought 8 cars
To mix-tape God, you mix-tape frauds
Make sure you hearing this carefully
Even if you know that we was cool before
You ain’t got to come and give death to me !
’let them know you don’t have to be
A clown next to clowns cause that’s ratchet D.
You could rap the motto and own the masons
Wouldn’t give a damn about your fashion, G !
You own the brand, you just come to me
What you saw before, you ’
You’re a grown man, why grown man ?
Staring at the logo and reading on some pains
You ain’t made a man, you couldn’t make the pen
I don’t pay for likes, I don’t pay for fans
I won’t buy your music, cause you’re popular
Cause you’re acting like you’
I say you’re not !
I don’t believe you, that’s superstition !
You say you’re high, I know you’re not
Go and prove it to me, go to this mission
Go dodge in hot gasoline
Go pump some gas without even flinching !
If you make it back, then I’ll play your raps
I won’t tell your family I thought you was missing
Gave you the game, I thought you would listen !
Y’all got t it twisted, like a Jewish Christian
I taught you how to dismay your labels
When they told you about it, they showed some kissing
When you tell the truth, you’ll say you was distant
What’s being dope got to do with stitching ?
Stay true when they’ll praise you
And that’s what a hell I call true religion !
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
