Interlude
I came here to eat, I'm fuckin' hungry
Smoked a little weed, I got the munchies
I'm eatin' every rapper that I see in my path
I'm lookin' to the future while you think of the past
Man I'm really outside, I should sleep on the grass
Some people talk shit, yeah, they talk out their ass
The shit I say I mean, it goes deeper than rap
Ten toes down, six feet deep, it goes deeper than caskets
Like a musket, it should be easy to grasp it
That I'm gon' be at the summit of this rap shit
You say you're eatin', nah, I call that rations
I do it for the meanin', you go for captions
A photo with some words? I use actions
Not a soul scrollin' through is really captive
Can you tell that I'm changin' who I'm attacking
White skin who wan' be cool with the black skin
But when their dads say racist shit they start laughing
And when the Republican wins they start clapping
And when the toughest shit begins they start asking
Why can't you let the past be the past twin?
Let's pretend slavery never happened
And ignore common names in the NFL
A jerseys sells, and it's Jefferson or Jackson
I call it actin', being blind is their passion
Passionfruit won't make this truth sweeter
I'm tryna be a changemaker and a truth seeker
'Cause see I got it in my blood for couple generations now
I ain't flexin', these are facts, I'm a truth speaker
Whenever I'm recordin' it, I'm a booth heater
I make heads nod like potholes in two-seaters
Waitin' on every line like a newsreader
I'm like God makin' tacos for food eaters
This a lyrical uprising, it's a word insurgency
Hurry it's an emergency,
I burn all ears to third degree
The second that they heard of me
End up in an infirmary
All y'all rhymes sound so nursery
I get money like bursary
Girl try to fucking flirt w me
Put a championship shirt on me
Shit, that's called a jersey
Flyin' to Miami, on official business
Yes I'm fuckin' working, with mamas and their infants
Really in the barro, Guatemalan trenches
Ok that's wrong bro, lemme end this
Smoked a little weed, I got the munchies
I'm eatin' every rapper that I see in my path
I'm lookin' to the future while you think of the past
Man I'm really outside, I should sleep on the grass
Some people talk shit, yeah, they talk out their ass
The shit I say I mean, it goes deeper than rap
Ten toes down, six feet deep, it goes deeper than caskets
Like a musket, it should be easy to grasp it
That I'm gon' be at the summit of this rap shit
You say you're eatin', nah, I call that rations
I do it for the meanin', you go for captions
A photo with some words? I use actions
Not a soul scrollin' through is really captive
Can you tell that I'm changin' who I'm attacking
White skin who wan' be cool with the black skin
But when their dads say racist shit they start laughing
And when the Republican wins they start clapping
And when the toughest shit begins they start asking
Why can't you let the past be the past twin?
Let's pretend slavery never happened
And ignore common names in the NFL
A jerseys sells, and it's Jefferson or Jackson
I call it actin', being blind is their passion
Passionfruit won't make this truth sweeter
I'm tryna be a changemaker and a truth seeker
'Cause see I got it in my blood for couple generations now
I ain't flexin', these are facts, I'm a truth speaker
Whenever I'm recordin' it, I'm a booth heater
I make heads nod like potholes in two-seaters
Waitin' on every line like a newsreader
I'm like God makin' tacos for food eaters
This a lyrical uprising, it's a word insurgency
Hurry it's an emergency,
I burn all ears to third degree
The second that they heard of me
End up in an infirmary
All y'all rhymes sound so nursery
I get money like bursary
Girl try to fucking flirt w me
Put a championship shirt on me
Shit, that's called a jersey
Flyin' to Miami, on official business
Yes I'm fuckin' working, with mamas and their infants
Really in the barro, Guatemalan trenches
Ok that's wrong bro, lemme end this
Credits
Writer(s): Gabriel Wooten-soto
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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