People Like Myself

People like myself, only hang with self cause that's the way to go
I can't go outside without finding some new kinfolks
People on my left, people on my right, all in my earhole
Make me be like whoa and find me somewhere else to go

People like myself, only hang with self cause that's the way to go
I can't go outside without finding some new kinfolks
People on my left, people on my right, all in my earhole
Make me be like whoa and find me somewhere else to go

It's Mag from your TV screen, buzzing off the Jim Beam
But the Mag y'all think y'all know ain't what I seem
I'm a low-down freak from Sea peak(?)
See them high school mates, I see them and don't speak
All you all wanna talk like we used to hang
Cause I'm doing my thang, now you wanna bask in my fame
That's why I stay out the club, be in the crib

Smoking a dub, counting my cash, over the phone
And I'm selling cell phones, all with chips
My nine to bloods, my glock to crips, who want war?
You and your boys can bring the noise
But I'm a bring hand grenades, now you're laid!
Pull out my dick, piss on your bitch-ass
Sit on your face, now you gotta kiss ass
Who fiend for fame life belong to your fans
And haters and thugs that wanna end your lifespan

People like myself, only hang with self cause that's the way to go
I can't go outside without finding some new kinfolks
People on my left, people on my right, all in my earhole
Make me be like whoa and find me somewhere else to go

Uhh, uhh, uhh - since I got bigger (bigger)
I'm over here and y'all recite Tim's my nigga (nigga)
Like I just figure (figure)
And my tracks didn't help niggas
So for remedy I pound niggas
Like I keep them in DJ's for that new Jigga
Like them forty-two Girbauds
I pocket every demo, like Timbaland - he's that next nigga
Confirmed by people that she can blow
Convinced Booker T she's the next to go

Now I'm checking every joint and every unit I sold
Once I'm deep in the dough, I'm deep with a crew
In the 80's you all screamed like the movie is through
You all screaming this is "Nutty Professor: Part II"
To "Eyes Wide Shut" to whoever I choose
I can appreciate a Kidman to a, tom cruise
To a, fast food, I'm strictly drive-through
The money I gave dudes I basically raised fools

People like myself, only hang with self cause that's the way to go
I can't go outside without finding some new kinfolks
People on my left, people on my right, all in my earhole
Make me be like whoa and find me somewhere else to go

Even the phone spit it, God know what I'm thinking
I'm drinking and smoking and stressing, go to church for confession
Down on my knees, begging to God, show me the path
My label is jerkin me working me so the devil can lurk in me
Sick of niggas bitchin, wishing I would fail
Tell them Mag be the rap effing kenan and kel
I'm spitting the version of verses curses over the churches
Rapping more iller than thriller Manila and give you salmonella

Stop, the press!
Bitch, you can't afford that dress, you can't afford that hairdo
I don't want your sex, here take your fast food
"Tim you're dead wrong, tim you're dead rude!"
Hey girl, I don't even know you
"Timbaland we're your first cousin marion sue"
My momma never ever mentioned you
My momma also told me to watch them sappy foos, what?

People like myself, only hang with self cause that's the way to go
I can't go outside without finding some new kinfolks
People on my left, people on my right, all in my earhole
Make me be like whoa and find me somewhere else to go

People like myself, only hang with self cause that's the way to go
I can't go outside without finding some new kinfolks
People on my left, people on my right, all in my earhole
Make me be like whoa and find me somewhere else to go



Credits
Writer(s): Timothy Mosley, Melvin Barcliff, Garland Mosley
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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