Pleasure's All Mine

Mofos over here
Thinkin' they know everything
Couldn't know they ass from a paper bag,
Makes sense when their head's up both

I worked for all I had, for all I ever did,
Every dolla' in my bank account came from days of shit
Try'na shovel it in my truck, for less than minimum wage,
And now I gotta deal these babies try to cry in rage

"Waa, oh boohoo, I got it worse than you do,
I got five practices, and four colleges to go to
I'm running on two hours sleep and ten cups of Mountain Dew
My schedule ain't got time to give a fuck about you

Swim meet and math club, yet no time for the bath tub
All y'alls breath smell like shit like you just got out the bathroom
I'm tryna put perspective on this track but y'all ain't got as much
As a raindrop of hard work, compared to my monsoon

Spewin' shit, left and right, in the class, day and night
All the while I sit in silence in the corner, nice and tight
Fighting the light inside of me to not shine and spite
Those ungrateful thumb suckers all y'all can go fly a kite

I feel you, it's so true, it's really quite sad (here)
Lemme grab a pacifier and stuff it up your ass.
It's where your heads at, either there or the gutter. Under your
Breath you go and mutter how you're better than the others but

All you got in your heads is a child
Sit yo ass on the chair you defiled
I tried to hold out hope, but I'm tired
So fuck it, I guess the pleasures all mine

Now step back a bit, only a mile or two
Don't think I only got one-sided points of view
I'm like a dodecahedron on a mountain. Cool with
Any shitty argument yo mouth choosing to spew

You empathy fake, only shitty takes
The only breadwinner you know is me when I bake (Give me)
A beat and a mic and I'll make this track go cray
You beat off and microdose on disstracks, all day

Minimal Spiritual Lyrical Criminal
Y'all just derivatives, I am the Integral
This is my world y'all are just in it
Protect yourself from my reality y'all terrible
I ain't rolling over you can forget it no
Amount of pushin' can make me pitiful
I'mma mad dog
holla' at the wall
I'mma bite y'all
Like a 'roided up pitbull

My shit too fast, go write it down
Finished the project, ain't fucking around
Outta uni as masters of masters.
The only job you could get is a clown
Catapulted yourself to a failing grade
Y'all needed covid to give you a retake, y'all
Hit the target, nah hit the market,
Cause I'm selling your soul to the Kingman office

All you got in your heads is a child
Sit yo ass on the chair you defiled
I tried to hold out hope, but I'm tired
So fuck it, I guess the pleasures all mine



Credits
Writer(s): Miguel Ventura
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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