Jon Connor, DJ Paul, Locksmith, Jarren Benton — Work Of Art

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Текст Jon Connor, DJ Paul, Locksmith, Jarren Benton — Work Of Art

Yo, this your boy DJ Paul, KOM
Man, what the fuck’s up with these niggas, man?
Since when is it cool to be a bitch ass nigga, huh?
What happened to all the real niggas?

Niggas that would pull up and blast your motherfuckin’ ass by the parking meter
Not put you on blast on social media
How the fuck is beatin’ pussy the old days
And bein’ a pussy is the new wave?

It was easier to find Bin Laden in a motherfuckin’ cave across seas
Than to find a real nigga on your own motherfuckin’ street
‘Cause they lockin’ em all up and throwin’ away the key
Then you got the ones that’s safe, the ones that’ll tell us, they say

Not the ones that’s rebellious, they said
«Hide them motherfuckers»
I say fuck all these motherfuckin’ fuck ass, sucka ass, fake ass
Motherfuckin’ bitch niggas out here
Mafia

I got a queen by my side, bitch, I don’t need a side chick
Fuck you and your fake ass, fuck you and your fake tits
Who give a fuck if I’m rich? I don’t need autotune
Boy, don’t play with my pitch

Boy, don’t fuck with my drip
This the shit that they missed, I’m out here signin’ like Flint
This as real as it get, I want my kids to be great
I don’t want my kids to be straight, I want my kids to own things

I don’t want my kids to own rings, I want my kids to own teams
I don’t want my kids to be blind, I don’t want my kids to get signed
I want my kids to go grind, and find what they lack inside
Then be surrounded by like minds, look

Niggas prob’ly like, «that’s too deep», but that’s the burden
When you’re wise enough to move sheep
You can manifest a dream, but you’re too sleep
Everybody see the problem, only few speak

All of you niggas is corny, still ain’t find your swag and you up in your 40s,
be wifin’ a stripper that’s fuckin’ the homies
And duckin’ outta takin’ care of your shorty, clown
It’s like somehow the real niggas and lame niggas just switched positions,

I just don’t get it
But I will never conform so if you don’t fuck with me
Don’t make me no difference
I will not make music that send you to prison
Or have you strung out, I see the bigger picture

This world is scarin’ me, real is a rarity, sellin’ your soul
For a lil’ popularity, ugh
I been at odds with God
I had my heart discard, that turned me dark and scarred

It was go hard or starve, listen
I tried to murder myself, but I was too pussy to die
They tried to push me aside, I had to fight my way out of the hole Though it
took me some time, homicide on my mind
Niggas die in they prime, so I ride with my iron

The irony, niggas could die anytime
Don’t know when the reaper gon’ dial up your line
They twist off your cap like a bottle of Hein’
Watch how they throw shade, they want all of your shine

Snakes in the field, it’s like all different kind
You paranoid, Jarren, that’s all in your mind
Bitch, I won’t be fine until all of ’em dying
Homicide, homicide, gonna die, gun or knife

Y’all niggas are bitches, I hunt ’em on a summer night (ugh)
The blade feel sharp as a piranha bite
And she gon’ do the most with a hundred
Fuck y’all niggas, oh you want advice?

When the gun go (bang), run for ya life
These niggas pray on your demise
The devils alive, word to the wise (wicked)
No morals or ethics, these niggas so pussy

They’ll prob’ly get pregnant
From GA to Texas my niggas connected
However you want it, you know you can get it
I come for your head, you get scratched off my checklist

I eat ’em for breakfast like Chex Mix
Bitch, I am sicker than tetanus, I pull up and pop pop
And knock off your block just like Tetris
Bitch

The cooning’s always been there. People know when they’re cooning (people know
when they’re cooning)
It-It takes practice to be a coon

They don’t even know they’re brainwashed, it’s sad
They don’t even know they’re brainwashed, it’s sad
They don’t even know they’re brainwashed, it’s sad

And you know, there was a time when you could justify that by saying, «Well,
there’s nothing else we can do. We have to do this, the people will not pay us
to do anything but this», but that’s not true anymore; you don’t have to do
that now

If you do that now, you’re making a choice
Look, what do you see when you look in the mirror?
What you expect when you look to emir?
Man is your god and you manically vie for position

Opinions are what you hold dear
Y’all niggas lookin’ at me like I’m weird
My life is mine, I don’t live for my peers
I periodically react methodically

Turn all you bull-headed niggas to steers
I stay away from the highs and the lows
I keep it even despite what is chose
Regardless of whether I win or I lose it

Put it in music to channel my soul
Sold and it seems like a fabric
You’re not a MC, you’re an addict
You’re not a asset, you’re elastic

Every facet of your life is flaccid
Back in the house with it, last in the game
If you last in your lane and you all like to sing
Niggas just follow the same, fuck a melody

Won’t get a pass ’cause you rappin’ Usain
I see my life as a singular mission
Beat all you pussies into a submission
Beat out the best and I took every test

And I brokered a part to improve my condition
Y’all been conditioned to follow these trends
I’ve been commissioned to scholar your pen
I’m an anomaly, I’m the new prodigy

No man is safe from what’s hidin’ within
No one can find where the real niggas dwell
Y’all rather follow these whistles and bells
We the new standard, we firmly demand it
We ain’t gotta get it or be dead in a cell
The People’s Rapper