lirik lagu abstrakt - 2am picaresque
[verse 1]
good kid maad city, october 22nd
2012, it took me 12 minutes to make this record
and i’ve been reckless, too many challenges in this era
i never broke, always tried to bend it like david beckham
my pocket is drier than olive trees in mid-december
thought it was over, holy jeez, it’s just a new semester
and just colder, only few times i’m caught sober
cuts deeper than the pain of a f-cked over stockholder
i keep crushing on celebrities
keep thinking about pretty relationships that’ll never be
speaking about relationships, my only goal is to hold pure gold that’s sold to kings and sit upon my diamond encrusted piece
and that’s the recipe, i got a fetish for fine fabric and f-cking first female daughters like stephanie
oh definitely, if you been hating, please rest in peace
i hang around with tomboys and feminists
she had the chance to choose money, funny how she chose guys
so when she’s on her knees, she isn’t really praying to the most high
i’m high on some expensive sh-t, walking on gold skies
what you see is what you speak, so i be talking with both eyes
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anytime i’m rapping, it’s a bitter sweet serenade
when i’m overseas, malaysian chicks still celebrate
and i don’t give an f in gh, i stay celibate
but i’m straight like its 6 o clock
high as the mountain, i’m hoping that my kid’s a rock
they tried to bury my face but then i kissed the block
when you eat with a golden spoon, you shouldn’t -ssume the shooters in your room should really give a f-ck like..
[verse 2]
just take a seat and listen
this is hip hop with an accurate description
this is like a child with an immaculate intention, tryna evacuate negativity from our intuition
i’m on the inside stealing your seeds like beans weevil
i ain’t a thief, i’m a stiff thin version of vin diesel
i’m ahead of hiphop heads that believe i’m still equal to these people
y’all like syringes with diseased needles
if you can’t stone the two birds, you could use traps
that’s an -n-logy for how it was hard for me to produce tracks
now me and my squad are up, and we took a look back
at how we were the underdogs, now we super cool cats
i made a new track, hoping it makes it to the news track
juice back like nasty c or ycee or 2pac
who’s that banging on the radio with lose raps
i’ll school wacks, and send them out of the game with school bags
i’m in charge of all you jews, i’m the newest king arthurr
y’all feed off carc-ss, i don’t rule with queen vultures
i’m the mischief thief who still sniffs the spliff odour
i never smoke, but when i’m on the mic, i bring horror
sh-t! like the slicing of a face
i’m sitting in the living room, imagining the grace
any rapper claims he’s blazing, i’m taking him back to jos
while i’m aiming my sniper bros, i be cleaning my michael kors
living a life justified by people
fighting temptations hard enough so i won’t die by evil
surrounded by demons, but i’m being protected by angels
n-body can say that he doesn’t sin, that lie is illegal
i’m always on point like the top of a church steeple
i ain’t here to crack jokes or make you laugh, i don’t tickle
already gave you one of the reasons i don’t trust people
i tell you say they go dey shine teeth like boy wey touch nipple
but behind you, chei, there’s a knife in their right hand
ready to stab you right on your back bone when the lights down
but i always stay awake, meditating on the nightstand
that’s what keeps me happy, i’m still relaxing in delight now
‘wen you go blow’ i’m not god, i wouldn’t know that
at least i’m broke but the richest rappers now are so wack
im getting dope on my own stuff it’s like i sold crack
i’ll make your best rapper shut up like he’s stuck with a noseband
there’s too much lyrics from my head,written on my notepad
it’s only music, i wasn’t made for pictures, kodak
you pray your first son is gonn’ be handsome like my own dad
but your present husband still be looking like my throw back
i can’t wait until my mixtape, drops
and then start spreading like i am preparing beans cake, lots
of white girls asking for love, i’m like b-tch take, no mistake, i ain’t falling in love until i reach drake
j.cole, kanye or kendrick lamar could be a bit late
but if you gimme phyno’s position mehn, i will still take
100 million artistes busting -sses but i’m still straight
i’m tryna build faith, so i could blow up big and be the youngest bill gates
[verse 3]
d-mn. so wotchu think i rap for?
you don’t know my dad wants me to be a pastor?
my elder brother is an actor, my sister is an anchor, and the best i can do here is to add more
dedication, determination and even hard work
i tried to capture a benefactor, that’s all i asked for
i didn’t even get a rec (mtschw please forget it)
picture me not giving a f-ck, and give it a caption
i had to buy a new bucket of paint to make greener pastures
along with a pocket of faith, but then i remembered faster
that i’m broke as h-ll, like my bank account is having a fracture
so i’m going in quietly, bad guys no dey jam door
the rate at which i’m soaring high, you go think say na rapture
if you think i’m not the best, i think you need to see a counsellor
or a pastor like my daddy, for you to attain my stature
these c-ckroaches claiming rappers for street they need camphor
they never chop since, they’ve been looking for chaows, okafor
you never see me driving, my driver opens the back door
we can’t meet but your beef is allowed, babc-ck
i was running the city, but you’re there running bankrupt
surrounded by the flow, like i’m standing in a bath tub
no friendly match for here, na me gan gan sef dey start rough
i made her put her hands together like criminals in handcuffs
now she’s opening her mouth, she has never been this star struck
it’s like i cause earthquakes anytime that my bars drop
guardiola and ferguson in one brain, mehn i can’t flop
i saw your chick, i told her to come closer with her hands up
i c-cked the gun and then bang bang like i’m a mad cop
my life is a movie and this music is just a backdrop
i’m hanc-ck on the mic, i murder any beat in random
mehn it’s major key alert, already stopped using the padlock
cos when sh-t hits the fan, then my brother, it’s your bad luck
see, it’s crazy if your life depends on social media platforms
young baller, up coming, similar to rashford
got pretty girls, flat tummy, b-m shots and tank tops
i got goons and uncles if you fools think you can act tough
this little head of mine, is full of plenty dreams
and nightmares of being broke, that’s the reason i barely sleep
to everybody, i ain’t asking you guys for anything
except your love and support and prayers when i am perishing, i’m gone
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