F**k Swag

Fuck swag
Fuck swag
Fuck swag
Fuck swag
Swag

15's in the back of the Dodge
Out of the garage
And my homies riding with me and they better recharge
I talk about the clientele and tell 'em they won't be off
I'm off Atlanta representers and we're given the yonk
And be better this cars and the swap in the squad
Swag 'em with the lamers fuck what they laughin' in for
I'm controller bitch we just hit the gravity volume
Half of these rappers to wack to be even rappin' and all
Tryin' to dress up like a widow when it's a mighty narrow soul
Make me wanna strike another mall I'm in the bowling pit
Maybe I'm just holding out the touch got the tutors for the kids
If you don't like me going 'em bitch I'ma looney again you lil' motherfucker
I'm over and I stick 'em up they say they're yellow go and then provoking
And it's time for me to tell the difference between a rapper and a singer
Of a rock and roll band I don't think this shit is proper yet
Way too many rappers wanna look like Lenny Krevitz
Personally I think these pussies get too many passes
Thrift store shopping with the shit chore
Rockin' lips lame and your music ain't with the shit as ever
And if that will make you matters even better
I don't swear and people talking shit about the way I look every day
Long hair don't care, red pair of Air Jordans
And I wear all black, no hook

Fuck Swag
You're a geek
Fuck swag
Fuck swag
Fuck swag
Fuck swag
Fuck swag
Fuck swag
Fuck swag
Fuck swag
You're a geek
Fuck swag
You're a geek

All these rappers wanna bite like they don't know how to write
They constantly freestyle and think it's tight
Every time they say a line with a metaphor in it
They wanna pause or laugh or ad-lib
They sway, they just copy who they like
Tryin' to sound like Gucci or Future or Toochi
These dudes need a lesson before they get behind the mic
Ain't nobody buying your records, they buying into hype
It was feeling me until they see I'm white
Now they like "man he raps too fast"
What you slow homie, you handicapped?
What you need a walker, a hearing aid, or a fanny pad
What you unhappy the the champ is back
The Manny Pac of the rap game that can't relax
I'm bout to raise the bar and they can't adapt the cameras flash

'Cause they see a star when I walk in the room

North side, Atlanta rap, I bet you wanna walk in my shoes
It's funny that I'm hot
Last year I was just cool when you
You was too official
Where the shoe that fits you
Tied yo' dick in skinny jeans, take your Louis belt and whip you
The clientele strip you of your jewerly, would take a pic
Post the shit on instagram now suck a dick
You bitch be looking real dumb
Still slum, I don't pleasant hear 'em
Bumping Big Krit and Yelawolf I don't feel punk
Rappers with no skills come on witness me I kill them
You fuckin' with me I'm the real one

Fuck swag
You're a geek
Fuck swag
Fuck swag
Fuck swag
Fuck swag
Fuck swag
Fuck swag
Fuck swag
Fuck swag
You're a geek
Fuck swag
You're a geek
You're a geek



Credits
Writer(s): Stepan Taft, Jonathan Mccollum
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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