Ballad Boy
I'm dressing just like a Beach Boy
Pastel Pete boutta destroy
Fits don't fit, call it decoy
Pull up to a show, treat it like Troy
Wait, wait, wait
You're hearing something you cannot explain
Tried to group me, I am not the same
Tried to lose me, why'd you think I came?
Huh, yeah
I'm sick of them cutting my scenes
Twenty seconds in
And we're cooking with kerosene
Bloggers talk shit on my mixes
That's heresy
Hm, babble on, babble on
Hm, catch me in Babylon
You haven't made shit
I can't speak to you
Tear down your towers
I brought the view
Get out of my way
I'm taking aim
Get out of my face
Where the fuck is your shame?
Music's a trip
What's in a name?
You're loosing your balance
I'm staying sane
Up there ain't Heaven
Heaven is this
Listen real close
This the new shit
I am an opp
I am a bitch
I cannot stop, I cannot
You're writing's shit
I'm writing ballads, boy (Fuck, yeah)
Hits on hits, I'm DJ Khaled, boy (Yeah, yeah)
TM shit, I'm so balanced, boy (Fuck, yeah)
Cut, cut out my set, get it cut, boy
Fuck you, youse a no-talent bitch boy
(Boy, boy, boy, boy)
I'm floatin' just like a Beach Boy
Pastel Pete boutta make noise
One-thirty in, you cannot compete
Your dewey ass wouldn't touch this beat
I feel the heat, feel my lungs on fire
Breathin' real deep, make your ass perspire
Speak for myself, call it arson
Speak for yourself, little sergeant
I'm Paul the Apostle
Catch me on some drums
Preaching my gospel
To all of you bums
Investing in self
I'm not talkin' 'bout funds
Frontin' and stuntin'
Just parts of the sum
You love it too much, you might lose it
That's why I fuck with the music
That's why I fuck with the music
That's why I fuck with the music
No more time, close my eyes
I can't stand the sight of you
Lookin' for signs
Leave it to Christ
What made you think he's tight with you?
I feel like Zendaya
I'm shakin' it up
These beats are the only thing that I can trust
You switch up your hi-hats
And think that's enough?
Nah, y'all got me fucked up
You're writing's shit
I'm writing ballads, boy (Huh, c'mon)
Hits on hits, I'm DJ Khaled, boy (Yeah, yeah)
TM shit, I'm so balanced, boy (Look, look)
Cut, cut out my set, get it cut, boy (Get it cut)
Fuck you, youse a no-talent bitch boy (Nah, nah)
Huh, yeah, writing's shit, writing ballads, boy
Hits on hits on hits on hits, DJ Khaled, boy
Baby, check, check my levels, I'm so balanced, boy
Opposition, that's some no-talent bitch boys
(And now, for something a little different)
Pastel Pete boutta destroy
Fits don't fit, call it decoy
Pull up to a show, treat it like Troy
Wait, wait, wait
You're hearing something you cannot explain
Tried to group me, I am not the same
Tried to lose me, why'd you think I came?
Huh, yeah
I'm sick of them cutting my scenes
Twenty seconds in
And we're cooking with kerosene
Bloggers talk shit on my mixes
That's heresy
Hm, babble on, babble on
Hm, catch me in Babylon
You haven't made shit
I can't speak to you
Tear down your towers
I brought the view
Get out of my way
I'm taking aim
Get out of my face
Where the fuck is your shame?
Music's a trip
What's in a name?
You're loosing your balance
I'm staying sane
Up there ain't Heaven
Heaven is this
Listen real close
This the new shit
I am an opp
I am a bitch
I cannot stop, I cannot
You're writing's shit
I'm writing ballads, boy (Fuck, yeah)
Hits on hits, I'm DJ Khaled, boy (Yeah, yeah)
TM shit, I'm so balanced, boy (Fuck, yeah)
Cut, cut out my set, get it cut, boy
Fuck you, youse a no-talent bitch boy
(Boy, boy, boy, boy)
I'm floatin' just like a Beach Boy
Pastel Pete boutta make noise
One-thirty in, you cannot compete
Your dewey ass wouldn't touch this beat
I feel the heat, feel my lungs on fire
Breathin' real deep, make your ass perspire
Speak for myself, call it arson
Speak for yourself, little sergeant
I'm Paul the Apostle
Catch me on some drums
Preaching my gospel
To all of you bums
Investing in self
I'm not talkin' 'bout funds
Frontin' and stuntin'
Just parts of the sum
You love it too much, you might lose it
That's why I fuck with the music
That's why I fuck with the music
That's why I fuck with the music
No more time, close my eyes
I can't stand the sight of you
Lookin' for signs
Leave it to Christ
What made you think he's tight with you?
I feel like Zendaya
I'm shakin' it up
These beats are the only thing that I can trust
You switch up your hi-hats
And think that's enough?
Nah, y'all got me fucked up
You're writing's shit
I'm writing ballads, boy (Huh, c'mon)
Hits on hits, I'm DJ Khaled, boy (Yeah, yeah)
TM shit, I'm so balanced, boy (Look, look)
Cut, cut out my set, get it cut, boy (Get it cut)
Fuck you, youse a no-talent bitch boy (Nah, nah)
Huh, yeah, writing's shit, writing ballads, boy
Hits on hits on hits on hits, DJ Khaled, boy
Baby, check, check my levels, I'm so balanced, boy
Opposition, that's some no-talent bitch boys
(And now, for something a little different)
Credits
Writer(s): Peter Berle
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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