Educating Rita

歌詞

[Intro] Yessir, What's good Look, I feel like every great rapper has one of these man No hooks, just bars Let me catch my breath right quick, Let's go! [Verse] What it do, was twenty-two up my the room Thinkin' bout a way that I could make a move, make a boom Debated to move to L.A. to make it in movies But traded the pool shade and gravitated to music Now I'm spittin' the hottest shit, it don't matter the competition Is sadder than a bladder that be lackin a pot to piss in It's actually kinda sicknin', the rap is beyond horrific Admit it bruh, Waka Flocka Flame is somehow respected? The game has gotta change, used to listen to Jay Up on the train, now they floodin' the waves with 2 chainz I feel like I separate with my lines like 2 lanes It's a dark knight when the joker's better than them banes Of the rap game, all of 'em rap lame They claimin' all em ballin', well then all of em Sac Kings At least they in the league tho,I can't even cop a fuckin peacoat That's why I'm aiming outside the box, like it's a free throw The weed smoke fuckin the air up Got this muthafucka snackin more than Miggy Cabrera Got this mafucka rappin some crack and yappin about it on his cell phone Tell holmes this is the track, that I got ma swell on And I spit that shit so fast sometimes I need to slow it down All these bitches up in the crib, it's like ma home a pound Tell me I ain't hold it down Spittin ridiculous, ticklin' bitches Up into they britches, and rip em like tickets And fastballs, lookin' at a cutie on the dance flo' I visualize that booty wit the pants off Had a little dance off, and I ain't had no shot it was the ass fault Cuz shawty body arguably hotter than august asphault They claimin' they great, man these rappers straight lebronin' I'm layin' in wait, to smack the fuck up out dat spauldin' I'm hatin' every song, they celebratin' poppin' Dom But I be takin' shots a brandy like a kobe at the prom pic Bomb shit, ya'll should see ma muthafuckin' blonde bitch The bombs on dat body shawty just gotta be Islamic I twist and I turn her on 'til she wet like she a faucet No rapper give you more a set...isn't it ironic? Because I'm seein' these labels Pumpin' out the horseshit, got me callin' 'em stables Pumpin' out the tours quick, but they ain't makin' hits Ain't nobody great as this White boy killin' brothers on that Cane and Abel tip Tri-tip steak, up on a plate, I'm on a date Wit a dime bitch, nibbling cake But nevermind that, Someone tell me where the fuck the rhymes at I was bumpin' Nas in his prime and you gonna sign that? Oh well, guess I'm better than they'll ever be I could do it serious but they prefer the levity I ain't really hearin' nothin' Say I ain't the man I'm layin' in sand, zero spf for the tan But now I'm back in this muthafucka, spit hotter than a flamethrowa Waitin' to hear em call on ma name like rap a game show Tell me this is lame, though I know that is bogus Gotta focus, be the dopest, with the most set of quotes, and the grossest When I flow sick, and the hope is Notice is right around the corner, my time to shine Is almost aligned, something like a quarter to nine If I could have a quarter for the metaphors in my rhymes I'd only have a couple dollas so I'm stickin' wit dimes (ya know) They getting off like a train stop I'm lookin' at ma dick like how the fuck do you stay rock No Southern Carolina, how you got so much game cock Cuz you movin' that vagina in the dark like a stage prop It's all good, I'm making this the outro I had to fuckin' spit, this is what I'm about bro And you know what it is, holla back up at the kid Slim Boner So damn hard, this shit is over