NF — The One with My Friends

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Текст NF — The One with My Friends

Yeah
I think I’m the worst rapper on this entire song (ha, ha, ha)
You know what it is
Or, if you don’t, you’re about, you’re about to know
Woo, woo
I don’t need a stylist (hey)
I’m only wearin’ black (woo)
And my homies are wylin’ (ayy)
We all love Taylor Swift (woo)
I’m eatin’ with pilots, they callin’ me the chef (hey)
I’m saucin’ it up
No directions, we made it from scratch
Fear God tee on
Shout out to Jerry Lorenzo (what up)
They callin’ me ugly
I’ma still marry a ten though
And I’m killin’ the friendzone
I’ma kneel in the endzone

And my ex had nothin’ inside, so you know that I hopped out a window
Anti-political, only makin’ songs that I like (woo)
This is anti-radio
No placements, won’t make it to top five
And high five to my team, we don’t respond to anybody on the sidelines (woo)
And I shoulda died
Like, I don’t know, but it feels like I got nine lives
Yah
I came in this with, like, four friends (four up)
Tube socks and Chuck Taylors on
I stayed in this and gave no cares (not one)
Now I’m moonwalkin’ on every song
Area code is 7−6-0, 6−1-9, 8−5-8
Think I’m great, think y’all late
That’s okay
Marty, let me come up in this party like I’m Scarface
To point the finger at the bad guy (go ahead)
At four years old I been a rabbi (gotta leave)
Let me show you how to do this (I do it)
I just need a pencil and a pad
Guy, follow me now
Couple record companies tryna call on me now
Tell ’em all to hit they knees and acknowledge the style
It came from God
Man, I got my game from God
Ain’t a dollar that can move me from the reign of God
I’m in this buildin’ hollerin’ West! (west, west, west)
Hold on, let me go and take a rest, I ain’t yellin’ at y’all (what)
I’m just tryna hit you with some evidence y’all (what)
Evidently heaven sent me excellence y’all (ooh)
I just wanna be a legend
I just wanna speak to the people
I just wanna play my sounds, make my rounds
Love God, live life
Do it all legal, it’s easy

Hey!
Don’t ask me a question
If you don’t wanna hear what my answer is, I’m gonna answer it
I got no time for the drama
I got no time for the politics
I do not care about names
They don’t mean nothin’ to me (nope)
I didn’t get in the game to make friends
And kiss up to people that don’t even like me
You know what I mean!
I don’t expect everybody to like what I’m doin’ out here
But I am the one that’s gon’ look in the mirror at the end of the day
You don’t ruin my career (no!)
I got some people that write me like, «I wish you’d die like your momma did»
These are the comments that I gotta problem with
You should be quiet and watch what you hollerin’, woo!
My fans will eat you alive
Trolls, get off of my page
My bars fly over they heads
I wrote that line on a plane, I wrote that line on a plane
You won’t see me in a chain
I basically wear the same shirt everyday
Get a hole in it, go to the store and I buy it again
You already know who it is, for real!
Still on the coast where they throw the set
‘Palas still bounce like Hammer checks
Papi gon’ get ’em like Dangerfield
Orale, you don’t get no respect
Labels that hit Fern and Marty up
Marty and Fern never call ’em back
«You tryna be funny?», was all they asked
Look at the charts, who laughin’ last?
Now I’m signed, need contracts
My God is major, my league minor
Throwin’ numbers up, need contact
These beats remind of Scott Steiner
Andy killed it on Sway’s show

So I best be workin’ my one-liners
Still pray for that skyline, boy’s lit the shots at those one-timers
I just wanna see hands in the air, my Lord
Never thought rappin’ would keep us employed
Feelin’ like Pacquiao I’m fightin’ with Floyd
The family watchin’
I better go hard in the paint, that ’96 Rodman
Shots out to Eric, I got ’em
Dog days in the Cali’ summer
Life’s hard, this beat’s harder
Rest in peace out to Harold Hunter
All praise to the Holy Father
All the smoke was secondhand
Either way we’ll never land
Say a prayer ‘fore I come around
Blood of Jesus, please wipe me down
New York
I wake up from my bed
Look over, kiss my lil’ girl in the head
Cause everyday is Father’s Day
Just like everyday is a birthday, you dig?
Third of the three little pigs
The wisest one, I build my house up with bricks
So when the storm came, we just came together in the Lord’s name
Bruh, I sold drugs
Bruh, I been grimy
Lord’s stackin’, you can ask ’bout me
Had the OG’s, they respected me
The younger boys not remember me
I was in them streets in the background
Was your ganstar’s gangsta, I spit game for free
Nowadays when I recollected and I put it down, gotta pay me
When you say Hollywood, gotta say me
When it comes to these raps and these APs
Cadillacs always been a M. O
Even when the old school broke down
I’ll patch ’em up, hit the skrip with ’em
It’s no surprise a brother on now
When the streets get a chance to speak up
They want a brother that’s gon’ eat with ’em
Speak up about the same issues and run it straight
Ain’t gon’ play with ’em
My contents done changed up, so them twelve year olds need a young sheperd
Looked at Santino right in his eyes
He broked out laughin’, he’s so reckless
He know I got now, it’s no pressure
But when it’s his turn, let the grits burn
That Lawrence Fishburne
But it’s on record how his old boy spit it like an old veteran
Fernie
Aha, I was old boy spitting like an old veteran
I’m in a lane by myself
Ain’t checkin’ for nobody else
Whole team lookin’ monsterish
Don’t really care for they acknowledgments
You can miss me with the politics
They lookin’ at us like some problem kids
Oh yeah
Anti-political
Yeah, I’m anti-political (anti-political)
Anti-political
Yeah, I’m anti-political