| I never won the spelling bee
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| I could read people’s energy
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| Listen to what have been said to me
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| Heard the voices in elementary
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| That I wouldn’t amount to anything
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| Ol' girl, she used to beg to me
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| Like, if we just had a nice house and a mortgage
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| And a front lawn, and a fucking wedding ring
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| I danced in Paris, shed my shell
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| Swam in oceans, felt the scales
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| Put my CD in Starbucks, it did not sell
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| Get the CD out the car trunk and did it myself
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| These piano keys hold some weight
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| In a bolo tie, I escort my date
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| She ordered shrimp scampi on a porcelain plate
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| The accordion played, I put my fork in a steak
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| Afternoons need a coffee boost
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| Attitude needs a confidence boost
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| Yeah, I’m sort of the dude
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| But where’s the self-esteem when the costumes removed?
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| Thanks for the invite, can’t make it
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| I could blame it on a flight to Vegas
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| But, truth be told, rather not socialize
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| And go and waste my time with an acquaintance
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| These relationships need maintenance
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| Everybody got expectations
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| Text back, so impatient
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| Where were you when I was in in-patient?
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| Motherfucker, you ain’t my accountant
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| You don’t know what I’m doing
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| Focusing on what I’m giving back
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| Man, make better music
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| Fuck preaching on top of the mountain
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| People can see through it
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| Keeping my name in your mouth
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| Just don’t bite your tongue while you chew it
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| Exactly, I got the man of the year
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| Source magazine was like our Vanity Fair
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| In a mansion, picking out a chandelier
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| But got a bone to pick with the man in the mirror
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| Questioning the purchase while I’m standing there
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| Questioning the purpose of my rap career
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| Thinking «Man, what the hell happened here?»
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| Feels like yesterday in a van packing gear
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| What am I gonna go and give back this year?
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| There’s a whole lot of struggling rappers here
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| Want a co-sign and a whole track this year
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| If you know motherfuckers start acting weird
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| Lot of backstabbers and some actors here
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| Lot of has-beens and over-reactors here
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| I remember laughing and cracking beers
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| Now I climbed the ladder and you’re mad I’m here
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| Motherfucker, you ain’t my accountant
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| You don’t know what I’m doing
|
| Focusing on what I’m giving back
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| Man, make better music
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| Fuck preaching on top of the mountain
|
| People can see through it
|
| Keeping my name in your mouth
|
| Just don’t bite your tongue while you chew it
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| Motherfucker, I’m gone
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| Judging me off of my past
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| You don’t see what I’m doing
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| When I got shot that was headline news
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| Y’all used me for views, I ain’t stupid
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| Cause what about all the good?
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| The non-profit for the kids in the hood
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| That ain’t got no option in them shelter homes plotting
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| Shit, I’m just doing what I should
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| They must want no one to know
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| Cause they don’t put that on the news, bro
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| They entertained by the culture, they vultures
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| They suck us like leaches 'til we broke
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| But I know the game, so I play it like chess
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| Act like a square, but really be the threat
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| The next time my name in the press
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| Talk about how YG gave them kids Christmas
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| Motherfucker, you ain’t my accountant
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| You don’t know what I’m doing
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| Focused on what I’m giving back
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| Man, make good music
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| Preaching on top of the mountain
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| People can see through it
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| Keeping my name in your mouth
|
| Just don’t bite your tongue while you chew it
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| Motherfucker, I’m gone
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| Fuck, hey, woo
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| Motherfucker, I’m gone
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| (Four, four, four…)
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| Hey where’d he go though?
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| Motherfucker, I’m gone
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| (I am the victim not the motherfuckin' suspect)
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| And he’s gone, gone |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Bolo Tie, artist - Macklemore. Album song This Unruly Mess I've Made, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп