I thought that headache had gone away
I guess buffered aspirin is not enough
(Yeah) Gone fishing
Lyrically, not for the masses
But I got beats lined up to get they ass kicked
A Dade rapper, but I never been on rap shit
My verse is like a heavy hand on bald heads, it's hard not to slap it
My passion is Christ-like, write like Ernest Hemingway
But I fight like Mike with a swipe bite
Real deal, Holyfield type night, you know what they might like
Bitch, I'm the zeitgeist since I was like, mm, what, sixteen?
Went to school and spit mean
My dog was totin' hammers, we ain't talkin' 'bout no split screen
I'm so ill, I'm sick mean, but back then, I sipped lean
And I'm talkin' way back, when Jay-Z had big jeans
Fuck the best rapper shit, I'm tryna make (Bitches)
I can't be the GOAT and still be bunk, it's not fittin'
A history of hits, but now for you, it's not hittin'
I'm out here five thousand in this bitch, I'm goin' fishing
Uh, uh, going fishing
Uh, uh, uh, ooh
Stop, stop, stop, right here, right there
Oh my God, a bitch-ass nigga approaches
Type to steal your roaches, when your home is done smokin'
A real charlatan, who's irrelevant at the moment
Hardly amount to nothin', I leave 'em pissy and puffy
Your life resumé sayin', "You really suck at this"
Bad bitch, succubus, ass is re-dunkulus
'Fore you had a style, you had to carry a suffix
Sled on your ice, it's never a cool run-in
Fossil fuelin' up, I make the booth the gas chamber
The gorilla in the mist like Mystikal, you all in danger
I'm submerged in the paper, bred to get it when I wake up
Doctors say it's been a part of my genetic makeup
Lay up (Mm), really wish you could've been a baller
You a angry fan in the stands, you a bother
Last quarter serving up your team in one sittin'
(What are you doing there?) Bitch, I'm goin' fishing
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
(For three days, you'll be doing nothing, but fishing)
(I believe he was fired)
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
