Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Fuck Everybody, artist - Jarren Benton. Album song The Mink Coat Killa LP, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 22.06.2017
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Fuck Everybody |
Yeah, feel I don’t give a fuck no more |
Feel like fuck everything, man |
Fuck everybody |
Fuck the social media shit |
Fuck the TV |
Fuck you |
Fuck every nigga that is like me, boosy bitches is feisty |
Only fuck with niggas with large paper, that pussy pricey |
Sleeping on these niggas with dreams |
When that man blow, you only on his dick for the cream |
You fucking slut |
Fuck the Instagram thot that shake her ass every post |
Attention craving bitches, all through the most |
That pussy gross, do some soul searching |
Your kids just asking for love |
You hardly pay 'em any mind, you shake your ass at the club |
Ayy, fuck them insecure lame niggas thinking they hard |
He post his dirt on Facebook, pussy nigga, you fraud |
Fuck that nigga that’s twenty-five and just joined the gang |
Never came from that environment, that nigga a lame |
Fuck the house nigga that stand for nothing |
Turned a blind eye on inequality, that’s disgusting |
Somebody snuff him |
Fuck anybody that hate me 'cause the tone of my skin |
Fuck stressing about this pay, but gave a loan to my friend |
Fuck the crooked systems, the overpopulated prisons |
Classism and racism, fuck, what’s the difference? |
Fuck the radio, 'cause they always play the same shit |
Fuck some of you rap blogs, they always suck the same dicks |
Fuck if you think better 'cause the college degrees |
You lack to knowledge yourself, plus I make more gwap than you B |
Fuck all the poverty and fathers that ran out on their kids |
Them niggas cowards, I stopped harboring love for you, bitch |
I wake up in the morning, cook my eggs on the stove |
Feel my heart getting cold, no more love for you hoes |
And I don’t think about it, middle finger to the sky |
Not another tear to cry, will I live or will I die? |
I wake up in the morning, put my grits on the stove |
Feel my heart getting cold, no more love for you hoes |
And I don’t think about it |
Middle finger to the world like I don’t give a fuck about it |
Fuck your street credibility, niggas living out their negativity |
'Cause they’re insecure about who they are |
Fuck thinking it’s cool to be a drug addict, that shit sucks |
Drugs destroyed the black community, what sick fucks? |
Put the crack in the hood like an experiment |
Niggas turning zombies, was once created |
I’m guilty of it too, I make songs like, «Lean» |
Drop a drug reference on every other sixteen |
So, fuck me and fuck anybody that disagree |
And fuck the chains we put on our minds from being free |
Fuck the presidents and politicians making us sheep |
Look behind the sheet, my nigga, wake from out of your sleep |
Ayy, fuck my sneaker fetish, could’ve put that money in my kid’s savings |
But I go and buy rims, clothes, expensive cravings |
Fuck Funk Volume for splitting up |
We had potential to be the illest label, no one was sick as us |
I miss my niggas, I hope you all doing well |
Now I own my own enterprise, nigga I will prevail |
Fuck the OGs misleading the youth |
Ayy, give 'em babies the truth |
Half of that shit you spit is fake in the booth |
Fuck fear, fuck doubt, fuck stressing myself out |
'Cause I worry that they sleep when I know I’m the best out |
Fuck stressing over love, women come, women go |
Met my worst enemy staring in the mirror like, woah |
I wake up in the morning, cook my eggs on the stove |
Feel my heart getting cold, no more love for you hoes |
And I don’t think about it, middle finger to the sky |
Not another tear to cry, will I live or will I die? |
I wake up in the morning, put my grits on the stove |
Feel my heart getting cold, no more love for you hoes |
And I don’t think about it |
Middle finger to the world like I don’t give a fuck about it |