Famous

Fuck it, let's get stupid
Hit that fucking bass and I lose it
The nods, to the look on your face
My dreams are lucid
Live for the applause
It's all that I want
And yeah now watch, I'm 'bout to blow
Taking souls and bitches with a microphone
But you know all these kids come in droves just to see me in the cameras on their phones
But yo, check it
2017 and I'm broke
And the sound system's shit so they ain't heard what I spoke
Fuck it, let them speakers blow
I know I've sure been there before
But you know these days the answer's still a question when we're talking 'bout tomorrow
I'll find it at the bottom of a champagne bottle
I've been throwing up so much you just might think that I'm a model
Half a million Instagram
Come on, please, can you follow?
Oh wait, now I'm hollow
That's a hard needle to swallow
Follow stories
Watch 'em popping vodka bottles
Beer binoculars find thicker models (Ayy)
Wasting like my time is doing every day
I take that liquor straight, now fame's the only thing I chase
But you know all these fake trees won't faze me
Please, can you make me

Famous
Put your hands to the ceiling if you've got that feeling you'll be
Famous
Oh, geniuses hide
I just need to watch 'em die so make 'em
Famous
Oh, everything I do it's all done for you
Until I'm
Famous
So make me
Famous

Oh wait, wait
Oh wait, oh wait, oh wait, oh wait
They not hearing nothing 'less it's coming with that 808
808
That 808080808
Talk 'bout pushing weight and now your fame is 3 minutes away
Soundcloud rappers, back your backpacks
This great's come with ups to shut
An unknown from the H has come to double-dutch you knuckle-fucks
Five star dishes, different exotic fishes
Let's live fucking ridiculous
And not talk 'bout how sick it is
For the audience
It's all of us
Discretion is lost
But yo, I'm not really trying to cause a big sensation
I'm just talking about my generation
That wanna be

Famous
Put your hands to the ceiling if you've got that feeling you'll be
Famous
Oh, geniuses hide
I just need to watch 'em die so make 'em
Famous
The perfect painter, where to hang this?
Not for the art, he's on the wall because he's famous
You can't contain this
Screaming "Fuck fame, that killed all my favorite entertainers"
Famous
All these fake trees won't faze me
Please, can you make me
Famous
I wanna die famous



Credits
Writer(s): Maxwell Mcgehee
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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