Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Tried to Be Nice, artist - Witt Lowry. Album song Dreaming With Our Eyes Open, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 24.09.2015
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Witt Lowry
Song language: English
Tried to Be Nice |
It’s Mr. High, yeah it’s me again, so sad, I need a friend |
Thought y’all could sedate, your mistake was putting the needle in |
Y’all broke skin, now all the demons, they keep on creeping in |
Your mouth is full of shit, I might hit the lip when I piss in it |
I took a pic and post it on my Twitter like, «What's happening?» |
I hope that I can get a couple likes and find a badder bitch |
With nice tits, a nice ass, some nice lips, a nice rack |
She said, «You're cumming too quick,» I said, «Bitch, you define fast» |
I look up at the clock, how much time passed? |
One minute |
Oh yeah, you know a minute, was straight drilling that fine ass |
She said, «I think you’re lying. |
I’m tired and where’s the wine at? |
And where is all the weed? |
I’m in need of something to climax» |
I said, «Okay, uh, well, let me see what I got» |
I start to search around my house, I found my ex-girl's top |
I went from soft to jacking off, now I’m in need of a mop |
And I hear her yelling from my room, «Mark, I said I want pot» |
Destined to flop, 'cause look at all the bullshit on top |
My only chance at success is if Kanye tells me to stop |
While I’m at the Grammy’s and they hand me the award for best pop |
And I think I’m joining One Direction now that Malik is lost |
Need a moment to pause, I want to say, «Hi, Miss Swift |
If you ever gave me the chance, then I could show you my dick |
I could send you a pic, I don’t care if Harry doesn’t like Witt» |
Like B and J, Witt and Tay, we could take over this shit |
Huh? |
We could take over this shit |
Me and you, we could take over this shit |
But for real though |
Yo, so why’d you send your daughter to college here in the first place? |
You pay 20k and your daughter became a sperm bank |
Was fucking five guys on the first day |
She learned how to suck a dick |
And still hasn’t experienced her first A, damn, she’s looking up from her knees |
She knows about whiskey neat, double D’s and the trees |
She’s getting high because the last guy, he left her with ease |
Asking him, «Please don’t leave, you said you loved me» |
On Tinder swiping right like which bitch gon' fuck me? |
You know that I’m the man, five grams of protein and some money |
And girls are saying they love me and guys are wishing they was me |
I’m offering nothing more than a washborn on my tummy |
It’s funny, I might go name my next album «Tha Carter VII» |
And sell a bunch of copies outside a 7-Eleven |
And make it sound like shit so that no one can comprehend it |
Baby, must’ve fucked your ears and then career, 'cause you ain’t selling |
I’m not dissing who you think I’m dissing, it’s someone different |
I tried to be nice and then no one listened, so I’m pissed |
And if I hear another bitch try to tell me how she is different |
Like, «I never get around,» but her pussy, I fit my fist in |
Insisting that I’m so jealous, I’m jealous of who? |
Your screws are loose for you to think I’m jealous of you |
You’re lame and never made anything but balls turn blue |
Telling the truth and when offended, then I’m talking 'bout you |
And I’m talking 'bout you, stupid ass bitch |
Fuck you, you, you and you |
Oh, I must be over privileged 'cause I comb my hair |
While I’m looking through Walmart, Target and Kohl’s for some clothes to wear |
You stupid fuck, I got a hairy pair |
Just for you to suck and if I bust, I might just bust in your hair |
Because I aim high, we are not the same guy |
You are just a lame with no brain and a day job |
My dad, he got laid off, too drunk off the Jäger |
And still drove me all around the town, wow, thanks Pa |
You could have fuckin' killed me, I could have been dead |
Your only purpose on this earth was your sperm and now look what you did |
You created the greatest rapper to live |
And when I’m standing at the Grammy’s, hi Granny, bitch, you ain’t worth shit |
Look at me win, I had a friend and he’s irrelevant now |
Come to find out, found his tongue in my ex-girl's mouth |
Karma is a bitch, the last I heard is you was surfing the couch |
The day you go out is the day that I feel bad for the ground |
You’re stealing my sound, you’re wack and I don’t want to collab |
Look at your past, I’m counting every rapper line that you jacked |
You sound like me if I could suck on my sack |
Like, «Witt, drop shit so I can copy it and say I can rap» |
I’ve come to attack you bottom-feeder fucks, I’ma blast |
Stealing your art and then your lyrics, you’re not real, you’re an act |
Not tweeting you back, you’re honestly the parrot of rap |
You’re making me laugh, I’m everything the rap-game lacks |
In fact, go ahead, compare me to the greatest again |
They said that Em sounds like Nas and Hop sounds like Em |
And I sound like Hop, so where do we end? |
Stop comparing me, compare what you can’t comprehend |
Can’t wrap your head around the fact that I’m just nice with a pen |
I’m standing up and talking shit, I’m never one to pretend |
Never one that would blend, I’m not Eminem and I’m not Lennon |
I’ma lead a generation and pick it up where they left it, it’s Witt |