Hater
Motherfuck selling drugs, got a 9 to 5
I was used to that commute down I-95
I was talking to my tunes like you want a ride?
Bumping new shit, exclusive, then I'd rewind
Word, nah I couldn't do the radio... nope
So I put my playlist on my phone... my own
Shit, nobody knows it, but even when I don't bomb my vocals are explosive
I hate saying that I basically relocated for payment
But my paychecks and paid rent they kept me alienated
From any savings I could make from my enslavement for wages
I couldn't take it, so to make it I changed up my state
"Hey that's great, Matt!!" ...yeah it is, but this rap scene's crap
So here's Matt and he's fearing that this lyrical passion
With which he adamantly raps could be shattered in the past
As I'm stagnant with this rap shit, so half of me has to be a
Hater
And I'm waving back to ya like see ya
Later
Yo I hate this rap cuz I'm a
Hater
So I don't rap about jack fuck, classics saying Matt sucks
But I come back at em, rabid, rapping, attacking these tracks' cuts
A savage rap punk, anything but average
I've mastered these fantastic impractical tactics... duh
Students scared to speak, pieces when compared to me
It angers me when Americans are airheaded enough to keep a
Pair of speakers carried and prepared to bleed with careless speech
I can barely bear the beat, and paired with feces blared at me?
No wonder I'm a
I see em scripting simpler talk, hidden the vision in fog
But I drift above it all, pens a quill of a hawk
So listen and mosh with me cuz critical thought you see's
An integral part of keeping this rhythim an art... word
All the noise I'm ignoring cuz theyre mega boring
Spitting simple dumb and dead, call em stegosaurus
Pre-historic in the head but we let em flourish
Where the fuck are all their metaphors, in the forest?
Y'all have gotta use a simile to get at me
And I ain't talking pitiful punch lines or filler, G
You say you're killing beats and all your lyrics ill with heat
But see me getting heated when you vilify soliloquies?
You lack elegance, hell there's no telling if
Selling or not selling's a fact of intelligence
Know what? To hell with this, I've felt the envy, now I'm pissed
All I get is complements, but honestly I'm not convinced they like it
I was used to that commute down I-95
I was talking to my tunes like you want a ride?
Bumping new shit, exclusive, then I'd rewind
Word, nah I couldn't do the radio... nope
So I put my playlist on my phone... my own
Shit, nobody knows it, but even when I don't bomb my vocals are explosive
I hate saying that I basically relocated for payment
But my paychecks and paid rent they kept me alienated
From any savings I could make from my enslavement for wages
I couldn't take it, so to make it I changed up my state
"Hey that's great, Matt!!" ...yeah it is, but this rap scene's crap
So here's Matt and he's fearing that this lyrical passion
With which he adamantly raps could be shattered in the past
As I'm stagnant with this rap shit, so half of me has to be a
Hater
And I'm waving back to ya like see ya
Later
Yo I hate this rap cuz I'm a
Hater
So I don't rap about jack fuck, classics saying Matt sucks
But I come back at em, rabid, rapping, attacking these tracks' cuts
A savage rap punk, anything but average
I've mastered these fantastic impractical tactics... duh
Students scared to speak, pieces when compared to me
It angers me when Americans are airheaded enough to keep a
Pair of speakers carried and prepared to bleed with careless speech
I can barely bear the beat, and paired with feces blared at me?
No wonder I'm a
I see em scripting simpler talk, hidden the vision in fog
But I drift above it all, pens a quill of a hawk
So listen and mosh with me cuz critical thought you see's
An integral part of keeping this rhythim an art... word
All the noise I'm ignoring cuz theyre mega boring
Spitting simple dumb and dead, call em stegosaurus
Pre-historic in the head but we let em flourish
Where the fuck are all their metaphors, in the forest?
Y'all have gotta use a simile to get at me
And I ain't talking pitiful punch lines or filler, G
You say you're killing beats and all your lyrics ill with heat
But see me getting heated when you vilify soliloquies?
You lack elegance, hell there's no telling if
Selling or not selling's a fact of intelligence
Know what? To hell with this, I've felt the envy, now I'm pissed
All I get is complements, but honestly I'm not convinced they like it
Credits
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