| Yall some underachievers
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| You’ll never be a boss or leader
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| Competitor you’re hardly that either
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| You’ll never be as hard as us creatures
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| You’re messin with Gods of the speakers
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| They sayin Oh My God he’s a genius
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| How you gonna ball from the bleachers…
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| Where I’m from they call that shit leachin'
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| Nobody working harder we beastin
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| This shit’ll put a pause on your breathing
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| Somebody stick a folk in’em please and…
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| Tell’em bring the coffin he’s leavin
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| Can’t tell if he was coughing or queefin
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| Ain’t built for this boy you’re a fetus
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| Rippin' shit apart at our event
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| Like a bawse and applause isn’t need
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| Cause we working day and night, on the low
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| So it’s hard to stay in sight but you know that
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| Behind the scenes, that I guide my team to realize our dreams and ignite
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| The f-f-fire, desire climbing higher and higher
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| I was rich even prior to turning sires to buyers
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| You’s a customer not owner
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| Just a rustler not loaner
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| Hold up, better own up, for you roll up
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| And you get exposed as just a poser
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| You’s a fraud, baby you ready or nah
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| We can see through the facade
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| We goin hard, from our backyard to abroad
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| On our job wherever we are!
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| HOOK
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| Godammit, y’all out to lunch
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| How in the fuck I expect that the job be done?
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| Hired a bunch of impressionist, sloppy chumps
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| Trying to stunt for the benefits, stocks and such
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| Slip/fall for a settlement, a thousand bucks
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| Ripped off, now they sweatin in a taco truck
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| Brickwalled by their pettiness — and all for what?
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| Shit nah — there ain’t anyone the boss of us
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| What a conundrum, who’s left to be moppin up?
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| Who in the f’s gonna fetch me a coffee cup?
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| It’s obvious none of us wanna be stuck in the office
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| But when I’m running biz independently — I’m the one
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| In front of a monitor — the devil in me got me just
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| Hunting for dollars, every penny is the god you trust
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| I’m an autonomous executive — I call for cuts
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| Of any incompetent secretaries — so y’all are fucked
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| Pink slip… but they talking tough? |
| And wanna don boxing gloves
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| Bitch, you a mailroom clerk — so when the scale don’t work, you don’t box,
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| you just box shit up
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| Zip it! |
| Ship it! |
| Whip it, good! |
| Devo! |
| Nobody making a cent off Vevo — We don’t
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| Give our money to Mr. Iovine, No, we keeping our c-notes, and build it up till
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| the profits come
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| Obnoxious to some, cause everybody hate they boss
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| Yelling bout how to make they calls
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| Telling em how their vacay’s off
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| Venting 'bout how their pay grade’s small
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| Evidence of the game they lost
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| And the main is stage is ours, y’all are just bitter
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| HR wanted a confidence builder
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| Fine, I’ma get Algo, then Kill drums with Sub — put em on a bill
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| Bottom line is we always deliver. |
| Get up!
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| HOOK |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Tony Stanza, artist - Substantial. Album song The Past Is Always Present in the Future, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп