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lirik lagu mo kl - bad stuff

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intro: (mo kl)
your mean…

verse 1: (mo kl)
hi kids, i pray to my dead uncle i had a lot of disses
before i leave your ass give me more hugs and kisses
i understand that k!lling a man, won’t show your true identity
i’ve named a lot of women, but this one is serenity
tryna’ live a happy life, oh the intensity
winning this grammy is my density
$100 hard to get if your poor, kind of like complexity
all you n~ggas really ask for the necessity
i love my home, live in a house big
but bush lied with ‘read my lips’ the hoe did a rig
did n~ggas in the 1700s wear them whigs?
seeing prizes, like i’m the best in this sh~t
i’ve done a lot of bad stuff in this sh~t
i’d murder your mother with my b~tch
i’d murder you partner in this b~tch
f~ck you n~gga

chorus: (mo kl)
i was on tv, makin’ fifty racks a year
after helpin’ mama out, the sh~t would disappear
i am not a man, i can’t do this on my own
so i started askin’ them if they would put me on
verse 2: (jay~z)
i’ve seen streets crown kings, take ‘em right back
too many thrones made of lies, one slip—crack
rooftops where we plotted, skies ablaze
while the grind lit fires that few n~ggas can phase
whispers from the other n~ggas, tales they spin
wolves at the doors, they don’t break—they slip in
play chess not checkers, or get lost in the play
where even p~wns dream they’ll see king’s day
trophy life is heavy as a motherf~cker, glory is sharp
you keep the applause, but feel the harp
lyrical architect, dodged concrete cages
but freedom’s price is paid in hidden wages

chorus: (mo kl)
i was on tv, makin’ fifty racks a year
after helpin’ mama out, the sh~t would disappear
i am not a man, i can’t do this on my own
so i started askin’ them if they would put me on

verse 3: (jay~z)
now, the boardroom’s just another arena
same rules apply, n~ggas turn subpoena
deals done in silence, ink flows cold
where trust is a currency more valued than gold
cigar smoke, the power dinners
smiles hide daggers; the real sinners
look into the eyes of the ruthless ones
see reflections of streets and forgotten sons
so toast to the win, sip that f~ckin’ champagne
just know success always has a last name
it’s sacrifice, it’s pain, it’s sharp and rough
it’s the hidden truth, it’s that f~ckin’ bad stuff
chorus: (mo kl)
i was on tv, makin’ fifty racks a year
after helpin’ mama out, the sh~t would disappear
i am not a man, i can’t do this on my own
so i started askin’ them if they would put me on

outro: (jay~z)
o when they talk legends, and the life we build
don’t forget the cost, the nights unfulfilled
we’re made of stories, raw and rough
and what’s gold on the surface—is that f~ckin’ bad stuff


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