| Kumbaya, my Lord, I might say things that you might not support
|
| When do I drop the torch?
|
| Bless my enemies, which whom I mop the floor with
|
| It’s true, my thoughts are morbid
|
| I’ma do my job, of course, shit
|
| Can’t fit in my shoes, niggas wishin' I lose
|
| I’ma get it like, «Woo»
|
| I done left it all behind me in Cali'
|
| While yellin' goodbye to my family
|
| I had to do a little soul search (Yeah)
|
| All of my demons kept on fightin' and scrappin'
|
| Inside of my mind, I was crashin'
|
| Maybe I was having a growth spurt (Uh)
|
| They tell me I should go out and mingle, it don’t work (What?)
|
| I’ve contemplated on whether or not to smoke Purp (No)
|
| Think you sick in the head? |
| Come visit my shed
|
| I live on the edge, let’s jump, shit, I’ll go first
|
| Mmm, yikes, quite preposterous (Yeah)
|
| White kids soaking up the hype up off it
|
| Hi, I’m Hopsin, I’m obnoxious
|
| I’ve been token like the guy from Boston
|
| Watch me rise to top ten (Yeah)
|
| You know what I mean? |
| Ain’t no one like me
|
| I’ma turn all of my haters to some overnight fiends
|
| I done made a lot of money from exposing my grief (What?)
|
| Flow catch bodies like it’s COVID-19, nigga
|
| Bitch, listen, I’m exerting the gas fumes
|
| I’m the asshole who goes to work in a bad mood (Yeah)
|
| Me and my alter ego make a murderous rap group (Uh)
|
| I’m handin' beef to niggas like I’m servin' up fast food (Yeah)
|
| I should’ve been spazzed, now the burden has passed through
|
| Haters wanna laugh at all the hurdles I ran through
|
| But the word on the avenue (What?)
|
| Is now they wanna watch UP
|
| Like a fuckin' pervert in the bathroom
|
| Nigga, ew, yuck (Yuh)
|
| The ladies always tell me I’m a real cunt (Yuh)
|
| These wack motherfuckers, that’s a meal lunch (Yeah)
|
| On every instrumental, I’ma spill guts
|
| And I’m still nuts (Hello)
|
| Like RoboCop’s scrotum
|
| I’m givin' niggas Hell but I really hope I’m not goin'
|
| And if I do, I’m pullin' up with hoes in my foreign
|
| While the Man above is watchin' with his Coke and popcorn
|
| Well I guess I’m a villain, labeled as strange
|
| Labeled a clown, labeled deranged
|
| Labeled as someone you might put to shame
|
| Labeled a freak, who’s unable to change
|
| I’m sick in the head, I’m sick with the grind
|
| I am not someone you casually find
|
| Where is the light? |
| Give me a sign
|
| 'Cause I got way too much shit on my mind
|
| And I’ma get it all out
|
| Kumbaya, my Lord, I might say things that you might not support
|
| When do I drop the torch?
|
| Bless my enemies, which whom I mop the floor with
|
| It’s true, my thoughts are morbid
|
| I’ma do my job, of course, shit
|
| Can’t fit in my shoes, niggas wishin' I lose
|
| I’ma get it like, «Woo»
|
| I been noticing a shift in the industry
|
| Too many niggas who appear to be gritty
|
| Flashin' they nice jewels (What?)
|
| Braggin' about some pills and packin' a rifle (What?)
|
| You just gon' be another rapper that dies soon (Boom)
|
| That’s another body off the market
|
| Rigor mortis seen him before police saw the carcass
|
| Some of these niggas really 'bout it
|
| They gon' show you all the corners
|
| Now your mamma gotta see you droppin' slowly on a harness
|
| Shit, it might be me next, I really mean it
|
| The reject that you all love, I ain’t He-Man
|
| Some niggas ain’t got a piss in pot they can pee in
|
| They hate the planet so they come at you lookin' for revenge
|
| That’s why I gotta go to sleep with the nine tucked
|
| Niggas creepin' up, fuck it, I ain’t leavin' survivors
|
| One squeeze and your spine bust (Ugh)
|
| Actually, I don’t want your dirty corpse on my carpet
|
| Get the fuck out of here
|
| My attitude is that of a Hulk smash
|
| Mixed with Tony Montana snortin' bags of his coke stash
|
| If it’s true that I’m a savage at cold rap
|
| I might as well rock a white jacket and Pulp hat
|
| Dissin' me is like having your throat gagged
|
| And fucked 'til your insides saggin' and prolapse
|
| Big and 'Pac was a tragedy, no cap
|
| But hearing me rap is like havin' 'em both back
|
| Yeah, so how can you deny, not for rude as I?
|
| Livin' on Cloud Nine, better believe the altitude is high
|
| Niggas say, «The game’s better, Hopsin, now that you’ve arrived»
|
| 'Bout to lace you motherfuckers with an album you can buy
|
| Yes, I had to go retarded, I was dropped at birth (Yah)
|
| Fuck all y’all, I’ma let my cock disperse
|
| I got a constant urge to let the bombs emerge
|
| And only time I’m worn out is when it’s Hopsin merch
|
| I’m a villain, labeled as strange
|
| Labeled a clown, labeled deranged
|
| Labeled as someone you might put to shame
|
| Labeled a freak, who’s unable to change
|
| I’m sick in the head, I’m sick with the grind
|
| I am not someone you casually find
|
| Where is the light? |
| Give me a sign
|
| 'Cause I got way too much shit on my mind
|
| And I’ma get it all out
|
| Kumbaya, my Lord, I might say things that you might not support
|
| When do I drop the torch?
|
| Bless my enemies, which whom I mop the floor with
|
| It’s true, my thoughts are morbid
|
| I’ma do my job, of course, shit
|
| Can’t fit in my shoes, niggas wishin' I lose
|
| I’ma get it like, «Woo»
|
| Boom! |
| That’s another body off the market |