Lyrics Comin' At Ya - Zuby

Comin' At Ya

I want a billion fans, so I need a million first
I’ma gain another thou' just off the sickness of this verse
Even when I’m smiling sweetly look at Zuby as a threat
Or you’ll get owned before you see me like a noob in FPS
No button combination lets you cheat the game of life
Rappers looking in my pad, they think I’m cheating on the mic
But this girl’s my one and only and she never leaves me lonely
When I want to beat it down she’s always waiting to bestow me
Spread the love like bigamy, so passionate with metrics
Your bars cannot belittle me your style is anorexic
That means you think you’re big, I hear you talking all aggressive
But you bark and never bite and so your mark is unimpressive
My vision’s not a dream, I’m motivated to achieve it
You wanted food for thought and I’m providing it so eat it
I wrote this in my sleep I mean it no exaggeration
Even scheming when I’m dreaming I don’t waste imagination
Show love when I come through, I get respect cuz I’m illy
And the ladies love me too like they love ‘Sex and the City'
Say I’m blessed and I’m silly but don’t object cuz I’m pretty
And always say I’m kind of cocky but they know I’m kind of witty
You know in my committee it’s just me, myself and I
Three of my favourite rappers and a little book of rhymes
I’ve got a lot of hustle but ain’t got a lot of time
Money’s got a lot of muscle so it’s all about the grind
Take a different policy, I’ll turn and pen a prophecy
My brilliance is vivid but it’s rivalled by my modesty
Honestly I think I’m like the hottest walking property
But realised as a teen that there’s no dream guarantee
So awkwardly I started on my music hustle properly
And still I had the brains to get an Oxford degree
So think before you talk to me, you’re tripping if you walk to me
I’m moving twice as fast like rolling doubles in Monopoly
They’re colder than December when they see you at the bottom
I’m living through my music, when I die won’t be forgotten
I don’t praise the mighty dollar and heard that fame is stressful
I don’t need to be a baller, I just want to be successful
Hard to stand out from the crowd but there’s a possibility
I could rise above the clouds beyond the probability
Can I do it all and keep my soul and credibility
Or do I have to sell it all to buy acceptability?
Consciousness is killing me, God given ability
To entertain a crowd f’s with my mental volatility
Lot of people see me but despite the visibility
For ones who truly know me I’ve got slim availability
You can always call, and smile if you don’t reach me
It means I’m on my grind so you can see me on the TV
And I’ma call you back soon as the beat has finished knocking
But I’m up and out the door when opportunity is knocking