Jaded

Dirty pants, ball cap, and a work tee
They want me to dance but I think I think it hurts the
Image I'm presenting: squinted vision
Sipping gin when he ain't thirsty Like that and taxes are a sure thing
Nurse, please pass the anti venom if they feisty
Hoping i won't notice but I think I think they like me
19 months of a little cyphering, notice changes in his writing I mean
I might be the best thing since sliced meat
Don't mean if you got bread you can bite me
Hyping myself youll never find me
9 times rhyming solid times three
Rest by myself but the rest come to sight see
Rest for the wicked, death to the hype beast
Lease on life like landlords tryna find me
Problem's Bon Mot's not recycling
So original and lyrically spiritual,
Reality cynical, had a habit of miracles
But magic ain't real, add a dash of tyrannical
Sashé in back brace I'm rapping fat like my mirror show
My shit cracked like the rock copped
Stoned like a top notch Brock squad
Break it down to pieces - chop shop
Break it down like "holler if you cop, Mot"
Cop knock shock, couch lock, blah! Blah!

You ain't fucking with an amateur
It's the reputation damager
I could be the janitor
Day 10 make best friends with your manager
World on his shoulders got 'em hunching when he stand
I ain't nothing but the motherfucking man

Dirty shorts, flip flops and a V-neck
Baby face, they thinking I came straight outta recess
'Til I step to the stage with the game
That would make your little cousin want to quit and hit the reset
Button up big boy, no funny business
Silly name, but it's something serious
Like a heart attack, run it back, still can't fuck with em
Big talk but it's all Peace, Love, Rhythm

No saved game, same shit, day changed
No fame, no shame, maintain
Break chains wrapped by authority
Vacate path of the majority
Rap from quarantine, crew on lockdown
Sound penetrates thru the compound
Break bread, stay fed, stomp ground
We're never gonna calm down



Credits
Writer(s): Bon Mot
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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