| See I need no introduction, you know the name
|
| Take 'em to the coroner to recognize game
|
| The soul organic on a mechanized plane
|
| Rockin' AutoTune flows with some Melodyne aid
|
| I do it raw from the nerve, if I don’t get it in a single take
|
| Then I don’t deserve to say the words
|
| And maybe that’ll keep me hidden from the herd
|
| But I’d rather hear my head than turn deaf to be heard
|
| So fuck this pressure to be anything but real
|
| Of course these synthetics are jealous of all this flesh-
|
| -Bitch you guessed it, but you’re not asking any questions
|
| Do I really have to text you so you listen to this message?
|
| Get on my level, I’m not even skyscraping
|
| I just think you could do better than wallowing in the basement
|
| Yall ain’t rappers, you’re player-haters and geishas
|
| Divorced from the game, rebounding from the breakup
|
| «Friends»
|
| «That these are the people that we call»
|
| «Friends»
|
| «That these are the people that we call»
|
| Gimme one damn good reason why I should fuck with you
|
| As far as I’m concerned, my rhyme book is untouchable
|
| «Friends»
|
| «That these are the people that we call»
|
| Gimme one damn good reason why I should fuck with you
|
| As far as I’m concerned, my rhyme book is untouchable
|
| It’s lonely at the top of the bottom
|
| You feel godly too often
|
| Seeing seasoned G’s fall off the tree like autumn
|
| Fake friends flake out, always saying they got 'em
|
| You’re a threat and a ladder, so they stepping with caution
|
| It’s easy to give up and just meddle with toxins
|
| Always one drink away from being the savior of Gotham
|
| Not the one that it needs, you just like holding the keys
|
| This shit is hot, but it’s cold in the breeze
|
| Leaving scheming bitches flat, their heads start to crack
|
| As the bodies start to stack up, oh, calling for backup? |
| No
|
| I fly solo in the dojo
|
| That way, your boy never have to split the dough low
|
| That way, your boy’s in Kokomo, slappin' ass in a kimono
|
| They never said you had to be poor to be the truth
|
| Friends
|
| That these are the people that we call
|
| That these are the people that we call
|
| Friends
|
| I’m living off the fat of the land
|
| You’re living off the fat of my lambs
|
| I’m living off the fat of the land
|
| You’re living off the fat of my lambs
|
| I’m kicking in my Fruit of the Looms
|
| You’re kicking with your head in the sand
|
| You know I got this mic in my hand, screamin'
|
| I’m Dirty Dan
|
| I’m Dirty Dan
|
| I’m Dirty Dan
|
| Bring her round here and we might dirty dance
|
| Other suitors, not a chance
|
| When I suit up and I put her in a trance
|
| I’m in the pants like ants
|
| Dip in a flash
|
| Next glance I’m just tippin' my glass
|
| Next scene I’m just tippin' my hat
|
| I’m busting my ass, all I ask
|
| Is you perk your ears up, and give it a chance
|
| Take it like The Good, The Bad, The Ugly
|
| Take it like The Good, The Bad, The Ugly
|
| Take it like The Good, The Bad, The Ugly
|
| «When you people leave tonight, I’ll feel much better. |
| No, I will, truly.
|
| I mean I like you to an extent, but I mean, I like you better when you’re not
|
| here.» |