[ VERSE 1 ] Yo, this shit keeps weighin me down, beatin me up Like every day's governed by Murphy's Law It never drops, but inside I'm, tied up In stress knots and chains and bills that ain't paid I damn near work for Dun & Bradstreet Keep a bank card and a wallet for show, I hate empty spaces Fill 'em with MetroCards that's been already took me places Fun Passes, loose changes, gum wrappers, maybe numbers Battery covers to CD players, and that's it I got some plastic But can't even use it, the bad credit's so drastic Ask me bastard if I'm signed, I rhyme sick But niggas is quick to turn they back on spitters with clits Hit em with this, and ridiculous phrase flow that exit my lips Hey yo, I mean my face, though They still want chicks with tits and ass out My respect is worth more than your advance cash-out I'm fuckin you right in the ear If these chicks did it you'd be catchin gonorrhea The only thing I spread is tinnitus Just tryin to keep this shit right And for all of y'all askin when my joint droppin Watch me this year
It's like.
[ CHORUS ] Hustles don't get knocked, except the ones that Fuck with my business and dough, you can forget that I told you once it's not gangsta, it's just right Don't get it fucked, I don't like to spit my shit twice Keep your fake thuggin, afraid to get in fist fights Glittery knuckles never made me shiver, buckle never Knocka, this how I get down
I'ma have to do that again, so y'all can hear it
[ CHORUS ]
That's what I said, yeah yeah Yeah Yeah
[ VERSE 2 ] It's crazy how I'm still catchin with no major distribution Slice through like guillotines, I'm precise with a execution The definition of artist, past the hype and the business So I paint the track like a canvas in post-impressionist style Time keeps gettin postponed like Emmy Awards My moms cataloguin my shit like she's Afeni Shakur Many of y'all ain't even worth a penny for thoughts So I ignore the rumors and the biters More than y'all ignore the Unsigned Hype in The Source Peace to Steady Rock and Tyson [Name] And a big fuck you to bitch Chris Lombardi at Matador And every A&R that turned me down Props to kids who stayed loyal since "Baseball" dropped And copped the underground, see, the barrel was facin me Now I turn the gun around and it's got unlimited ammunition I dare you to question, now they'll know I'm dressin So don't skip through the record But if you're lookin for some shit to bump in the ride, you should check it
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Copy to Clipboard: [ VERSE 1 ] Yo, this shit keeps weighin me down, beatin me up Like every day's governed by Murphy's Law It never drops, but inside I'm, tied up In stress knots and chains and bills that ain't paid I damn near work for Dun & Bradstreet Keep a bank card and a wallet for show, I hate empty spaces Fill 'em with MetroCards that's been already took me places Fun Passes, loose changes, gum wrappers, maybe numbers Battery covers to CD players, and that's it I got some plastic But can't even use it, the bad credit's so drastic Ask me bastard if I'm signed, I rhyme sick But niggas is quick to turn they back on spitters with clits Hit em with this, and ridiculous phrase flow that exit my lips Hey yo, I mean my face, though They still want chicks with tits and ass out My respect is worth more than your advance cash-out I'm fuckin you right in the ear If these chicks did it you'd be catchin gonorrhea The only thing I spread is tinnitus Just tryin to keep this shit right And for all of y'all askin when my joint droppin Watch me this year
It's like.
[ CHORUS ] Hustles don't get knocked, except the ones that Fuck with my business and dough, you can forget that I told you once it's not gangsta, it's just right Don't get it fucked, I don't like to spit my shit twice Keep your fake thuggin, afraid to get in fist fights Glittery knuckles never made me shiver, buckle never Knocka, this how I get down
I'ma have to do that again, so y'all can hear it
[ CHORUS ]
That's what I said, yeah yeah Yeah Yeah
[ VERSE 2 ] It's crazy how I'm still catchin with no major distribution Slice through like guillotines, I'm precise with a execution The definition of artist, past the hype and the business So I paint the track like a canvas in post-impressionist style Time keeps gettin postponed like Emmy Awards My moms cataloguin my shit like she's Afeni Shakur Many of y'all ain't even worth a penny for thoughts So I ignore the rumors and the biters More than y'all ignore the Unsigned Hype in The Source Peace to Steady Rock and Tyson [Name] And a big fuck you to bitch Chris Lombardi at Matador And every A&R that turned me down Props to kids who stayed loyal since "Baseball" dropped And copped the underground, see, the barrel was facin me Now I turn the gun around and it's got unlimited ammunition I dare you to question, now they'll know I'm dressin So don't skip through the record But if you're lookin for some shit to bump in the ride, you should check it
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