Papa, I'm Going to Be Famous

Rest in peace, Basquiat
Yeah
Yeah. Alright

Papa, I'm gonna be famous. I'm tired of waiting for changes (Ouuu)
Mama been praying for me cause she know that the journey been dangerous (Ouuu)
Told all my niggas I got 'em. They know it. We speak the same language (Ouuu)
You might see me ridin' solo, but they know its a whole lotta gang shit (Ouuu)
Middle finger to the devils and everybody that they came with (Ouuu)
They mad cause I'm different
I stand out in crowds that was claiming I can't fit (Ouuu)
They saying I'm loud, but I think it's cause I ain't screaming about the same shit (Ouuu)
And these fake rappers causing traffic, so I think it's time to lane switch Skrrrrrt!
(Papa, I'm going to be famous! Aw yeah!)
Yeah, and I truly believe it
Everybody in here can see it
I can't be defeated
They all try to beat it
I'm badder than Michael. My flow is a Thriller
I can't be a killer. I'm way too conceited
Fuck all that love cause I don't really need it
When I make history, they'll say I'm a genius Woo!

Papa, I'm going to be famous! Aw yeah!
Papa, I'm going to be famous! Aw yeah!
Papa, I'm going to be famous! Aw yeah!
Papa, I'm going to be famous! Aw yeah!
Papa, I'm going to be famous!

Yeah
Papa, I'm going to be famous. I gotta make 'em know my name
(Name, name, name)
You always told me be strong and let the scars show my pain
(Pain, pain, pain)
Them hard times. I be close to throwing art down the drain, bro
But I tend to always look back like, "You see how far I done came, hoe?" (HOE)
Man, I promise to never give up on them dreams I done cried for
Them same dreams I would ride for
I'd kill any dream killer tryna kill them big dreams I would die for
I load up a clip and just let off like Rambo (Ouuu)
Splatter some radiant thoughts on a canvas. I'm feeling like SAMO (Ouuu)
(Papa, I'm going to be famous! Aw yeah!)
Look. Man, I got too much talent
To be out here feeling unbalanced
I'm waving at rappers who pose me no challenge
I'm killing this shit. It's becoming a habit
To stunt on these niggas who talking that malice
Pouring that Barbancourt up in my chalice
While I put together this magic. Woo!

Papa, I'm going to be famous! Aw yeah!
Papa, I'm going to be famous! Aw yeah!
Papa, I'm going to be famous! Aw yeah!
Papa, I'm going to be famous! Aw yeah!
Papa, I'm going to be famous!

Is there any anger in you? Any anger in you at all?
Of course, there is. Yeah. Of course, there is
Talk about that. Tell me what about the anger you're talking
What are you angry about?
I don't remember. You know



Credits
Writer(s): Frederick Desinord
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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