What I Gotta Do

This shit don't effect me, I don't wanna talk to you
They don't wanna help me, I got this shit, I'll follow through
Everyone except me gets support from all of you
I won't let it stress me, I'll do what l gotta do

If I gotta go a different route, and hit you with a 50 Cal to put you right into the ground that's what I'ma fuckin do
Bitch you're gonna feel it now when I'm coming to send a round, switch your smile to a frown when I point this gun at you
Really what's the fucking use of me coming to buck at you, I'd rather climb up on your roof like reindeer with their fucking hooves
Fuck your shit up, get you flustered with a motherfucking tongue twister
What the fuck you gonna do
I'm Mike Vick, a chauvinist white Pit
A Doberman, quite sick, I'm holding a tight grip
I'm hoping that I'll stick, there's no way that I'll quit
I know I got nuts but I'm showing them my dick
As I swing for the fences, offending the bitches, a sinful existence a pen full of venom
Don't nobody wanna get caught in my cross hairs
No one thought it's funny when I shocked and I mocked their
Fucking ideas, got them pissed like Ikea and you don't wanna find out what happens if I see ya
I'm the Phantom of the Opera don't come into my theater
Get the pans and the pots and then I'm coming to eat ya
With a flow so sick, maneuvering through the beat
Don't tell me it won't hit cuz I'm shooting for three
Of you little motherfuckers who get into my way
I'm killing you motherfuckers, no Hip-Hop Hooray
Coming undercover like I graduated Jump Street
I'm about to run up and turn the haters to lunch meat
Punk me, I got the same mind as Bundy
I'm Jason Voorhees dancing in my white undies
I don't need a hockey mask to put you in a body bag
I just need a pencil and a little bit of cocky swag
Giving this shit all I have
And tee bagging every motherfucking asshole that doesn't wanna call me back
This ain't pretty boy swag, this is gritty flow rap
And you shitty hoe's that don't really know that
I won't really hold back, I'ma get in your ass
So you silly motheruckers are really about to find out what goes down when we cut the lights out
Gonna be calling you PVC if you don't pipe down
Coming through your chimney without making a slight sound
But it ain't Christmas Eve and Dracula bout to bite down

This shit don't effect me, I don't wanna talk to you
They don't wanna help me, I got this shit, I'll follow through
Everyone except me gets support from all of you
I won't let it stress me, I'll do what l gotta do

This shit don't effect me, I don't wanna talk to you
They don't wanna help me, I got this shit, I'll follow through
Everyone except me gets support from all of you
I won't let it stress me, I'll do what l gotta do

If I gotta take a darker path and break them like a heart attack I'll make them have a cardiac and take out every one of you
They won't wanna follow that, and they don't wanna hollow cap inside their fucking skull in fact they don't wanna fuck with you
But I'll make them, I ball like Tatum
No ultimatum, flow hard and dangerous
I'll stomp and break Ndamukong's face in
Just wanna make them cough up the bacon
Give me that shit cuz I'm on the lamb
Clarice is that bitch but I got some plans
I'm fisting that bitch, I ripped off her pants
I stick my hand in and flipped off her man
What I got to lose? Life is but an object
I'm the next news, the next hit, I'm on deck
I can be rude but working on it like projects
I don't need shoes to give these bitches a complex
I'ma be the biggest fucking thing that you don't know
I'ma be the motherfucking king, you're like "oh no"
I'ma be the biggest fucking thing that ain't found out
When I leave the house call me Shaq cuz I'm foul out

This shit don't effect me, I don't wanna talk to you
They don't wanna help me, I got this shit, I'll follow through
Everyone except me gets support from all of you
I won't let it stress me, I'll do what l gotta do

This shit don't effect me, I don't wanna talk to you
They don't wanna help me, I got this shit, I'll follow through
Everyone except me gets support from all of you
I won't let it stress me, I'll do what l gotta do



Credits
Writer(s): Brock Simpson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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