OH LORD

You couldn't fuck with me if that shit was your life's mission
I talk spicy, they don't like me, they a white kitchen
Don't compare me to these bitches, we're quite different
All they see is green, they got night vision
I see the value that the money's s'posed to represent
This fire burnin' in my belly, so I let it vent
Tellin' me I'm heaven-sent, I left that on read
Just let the song cry, don't do what the song says
Rap game Larry David, they lookin' very Newman
They Seinfeld and quit music, what is Jerry doin'?

If y'all droppin' bombs then I'm Harry Truman
But mind those are truthin', before you get all
Sensitive about that line and act like you care 'bout humans
Re-listen to your imperialist raps and cut the cap, you foolish
Huh, oh my
Somethin' classic on they necks, don't get bowtied
My suggestion box is played and old
It's full of thoughts from folks with vacant souls
Try and G-check me, ma'fucker, when you pay the toll
Dudes look the part, thinkin' they could play the role

That could get yo' head cracked
So I just be myself and let the rest act
And I'm from New York, so I live my truth and they say it's dead facts
Huh, God bless the rest, the best's back

Yeah
Oh Lord, oh Lord, oh Lord
You can pick the park, bitch, I still got homecourt
Peek inside the real, ma'fuck a brochure
See what you could be, huh, they don't want it
Oh Lord, oh Lord, oh Lord
You can pick the park, bitch, I still got homecourt
Peek inside the real, ma'fuck a brochure
See what you could be, fuck outta here

You're a self-consumed, no talent
Mediocre piece of shit
And I've earned my right to say it
Who the fuck are you? Who the fuck are you?!



Credits
Writer(s): Marlon Sean Cirker, Hakan Mavruk
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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