Hard

歌詞

A lot of people ask me since I'm a lyricist in this business How come I haven't gone broke yet? I tell 'em it's cause I'm the flyest backpacker ever I'm flyer than Mos Def in a Trump tower surrounded by four chefs Fixing him some slamon croquettes with Kendrick, Cole and Kweli In their dinner clothes, try me, you and your crew will bleed Y'all bums ain't shot for the stars - just New Years Eve Nothing was given to me I had to go upside heads just to get upside hills Never over the hill though, so I never strike when the iron is hot I strike whenever the fuck I feel I eat what the fuck I kill I got this way from not being allowed to eat dinner If you knew how much I've lost, you'd have no problem with me winning How many times, how many times, how many times Could I be reinvented? Money is the deadlier of the five venoms, in my denim Definitively got a widen 'em, garages with cars in 'em Hanging out in bars to have menages with bartendes God was an artist and Jesus was a carpenter They put me together like an easel in the darkness of hell And lost it and left me some loose screws, but These are the nails to your coffin These are the folk tales of a starving artist Battling demons through his notepad like Adam and Eve eating kale in the garden Flying private away from all charges As my layers keep evolving