lirik lagu nathan r. allen – don’t jack my #barz
[hook]
don’t jack my bars (x5)
[verse 1]
you watch me as i write? i wouldn’t doubt it if you did
i feel like i’m being beared on by a thousand little kids
who think my album is the schnitz and copy down my every whim
and though it gives such a confidence, i’m housing lividness
do you even art, bro? this is an egregious farce, yo!
harvest of the artists, reap up all these bars, go!
every stroke of wit i writ, you make note of it
and spit it for a whole array of fans that don’t exist
where do you get the motivation to take what another soul created?
i’ve been showing patience but now i’m unloading hatred
cause it makes no sense to take from another’s show of greatness
if it sounds dope and bangin’, everybody knows it’s nathan!
so it’s futile for you to try to scoop music from loober
rumors will spread, and you’ll be doomed in the future
and every dude will presume every tune from you is fraudulent
so tune in, student, word of advice: just don’t do it
[hook]
[verse 2]
you people love it when i show up in your news feed
cause i’m basically giving you free
knowledge to drop when you get the opportunity to speak
so tune in and read up, i’m donating facts to ya
twitter dot com forward-slash al loober
read the words i’m typing, plagiarize every one of them
take them as your own, no one’s giving out any punishment
wouldn’t be the first time someone jacked my work without asking first
fasten your belt if you’re gonna ride my weenie, please be safe p-ssengers
wouldn’t want a man injured even if he hasn’t learned
that making hashed-up verses based from al’s twitter makes him look like a m-ssive t-rd
and after all that he still has the nerve
to say my delivery makes me sound like an arabic nerd (what?)
criticize the way i’m rappin, say it sucks then straight up jack it
make it as the main attraction: you’re just proclaiming alfred
ya’ll sound like crazies in straight jackets, i swear you say ‘em backwards
which only goes to show how much time you take to practice
that goes for all you reading my hashtag barz tweets
get together and have a jack al party
write verses that are half-bad and all me
face the facts, you can’t rap at all, b!
so stand back and call me; i’ll murder your favorite poet
if it enables great emotions then you’ll know that nathan wrote it
my thoughts define what you call sublime
you know what rhymes are dope by what sounds like mine the most
if you want to start a tribute band, i’m chill with that
please don’t let me stiff you man
but can’t you please at least give tribute back
to the man that freely gives you raps?
i shouldn’t need to tell you that
you play my songs, just let your fans know you breathe and live a hack
here, you want some barz? seriously, free samples!
i got my rhyme book, how much you want? three chapters?
steal my lyrics, see if i even care, it
only reinsures the fact that you’re simply a freaking parrot
what are you, delusional?
you think that you drew these poems? screw you, go do your own!
you’ll never pen truth as dope as what loober wrote
every loser knows what i say, no need to prove it so
[hook]
[bridge]
don’t jack my barz
cause that’s my art
and you jack my art
you’re a nasty fart
[verse 3]
so fine, take my barz, have this one, and this one
name three people that will give ‘em a listen
your momma, your grandma, your sister melissa
your image is missing, just give in and give up!
you write bad words with no rhyme pattern
so you like, jack verses and you find that works
well, excuse my manners, but might i ask, sir:
why can’t you learn to leave my rap words?
and tell me my stage name reminds you of g-y s-x
i’ll take that in the sense of you saying
that you climax when you say it
and you play my tape when you’re lying in your babe’s bed
wishing it was me that was there beside you naked
you lie impatiently crying “nathan, loober!”
at your laptop hoping the next rhyme to take comes sooner
but i’m not on twitter, i’m down in my bas-m-nt studio
recording the verse right now that i’m saying to ya
so sorry if this sounds a tad weakly worded
i just had to record it before you jacked anymore of it
p.s. don’t. jack. my. barz!!!
[hook]
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