Producer: J-Rell
[Produced By: J-Rell]
[Verse 1]
It's that wack rapper eulogy
That independent study, ain't nobody schoolin' me
I'm too smart, ain't no foolin' me
They say I'm hot and now they actin' like they cool with me
Steady plottin' for I plot to plant a coffin
They wanna take my spot like Jesse Jackson, guess I'm Martin Luther King
Hell it hurts, I could barely trust the church
I just watched a man of God turn and do the devil's work
As I'm prayin' for my sins pass the plate, give 10 percent
Catch the bus to leave the service pastor pulled off in a Benz
So tell me how that feel nigga?
So cold hearted bet your spirit get a chill nigga
I flip this rap shit like a fuckin' pissy mattress
Attracting women that ain't know the line just like a actress
I'm rappin for the niggas who ain't have shit
Can't hold a candle to me, why you tryna match this?
Hard to hear the real cause your ears filled with whack shit
Rappers makin' dollars cause you stupid niggas lack sense
Just like to mention I'm about to make a killing
The writing's on the wall, Bart Simpson in detention
Nigga, please man
[Verse 2]
Look how far that we got
Still got much further to go, but shit we all that we got
With what we got from mic recordings I remember sporing PayLess Dunlaps
Laughed at by cats who wore Jordans
But momma can't afford them, I'm ashamed I even asked
Things you have you don't want, things you want you don't have
So my friends ran streets while I ran beats
Growin' two different directions like Trinidad James' teeth
I survived like Preach, Cochise in the sky
Valedictorian, graduated from Cooley High
Southside of the Chi ain't a safe place to live
Watching these grandmothers outliving their grandkids
It's a damn shame but I'm tryna make it out
Ain't bring me in this world but they tryna take me out
Don't hate the player, hate the game and I'm just playin' by the rules
Like Romney told McCain, damn this nigga don't lose
See you niggas new clothes want someone to put you on
But I just make tracks like a dope shooter's arm
I'm rappin' like I ain't make a dollar yet
Promise momma I'll get her a house and she ain't got it yet
So I'm working
S'all good
Yea I'm working nigga
In due time it'll be fine
[Verse 1]
It's that wack rapper eulogy
That independent study, ain't nobody schoolin' me
I'm too smart, ain't no foolin' me
They say I'm hot and now they actin' like they cool with me
Steady plottin' for I plot to plant a coffin
They wanna take my spot like Jesse Jackson, guess I'm Martin Luther King
Hell it hurts, I could barely trust the church
I just watched a man of God turn and do the devil's work
As I'm prayin' for my sins pass the plate, give 10 percent
Catch the bus to leave the service pastor pulled off in a Benz
So tell me how that feel nigga?
So cold hearted bet your spirit get a chill nigga
I flip this rap shit like a fuckin' pissy mattress
Attracting women that ain't know the line just like a actress
I'm rappin for the niggas who ain't have shit
Can't hold a candle to me, why you tryna match this?
Hard to hear the real cause your ears filled with whack shit
Rappers makin' dollars cause you stupid niggas lack sense
Just like to mention I'm about to make a killing
The writing's on the wall, Bart Simpson in detention
Nigga, please man
[Verse 2]
Look how far that we got
Still got much further to go, but shit we all that we got
With what we got from mic recordings I remember sporing PayLess Dunlaps
Laughed at by cats who wore Jordans
But momma can't afford them, I'm ashamed I even asked
Things you have you don't want, things you want you don't have
So my friends ran streets while I ran beats
Growin' two different directions like Trinidad James' teeth
I survived like Preach, Cochise in the sky
Valedictorian, graduated from Cooley High
Southside of the Chi ain't a safe place to live
Watching these grandmothers outliving their grandkids
It's a damn shame but I'm tryna make it out
Ain't bring me in this world but they tryna take me out
Don't hate the player, hate the game and I'm just playin' by the rules
Like Romney told McCain, damn this nigga don't lose
See you niggas new clothes want someone to put you on
But I just make tracks like a dope shooter's arm
I'm rappin' like I ain't make a dollar yet
Promise momma I'll get her a house and she ain't got it yet
So I'm working
S'all good
Yea I'm working nigga
In due time it'll be fine
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