[Verse 1]
Tales of the Bootleg Rapper
It’s hard to get booked if they skipping the first chapter
Rap my heart out for forty-seven playbacks
Maybe I should go and get a face tat
I would try, but it’s really not I
Plus, my momma on my mind
I just let those thoughts slide
Like some Gucci flip flops cause I heard that life’s a bitch
And I keep the flow dirty like Future Hendrix piss
With a piss poor attitude
I made the baddest grooves
Just to elevate my altitude
Now the boy in tune with the wav.s
Dad your son the moon
Hanging with the stars, I might get heavenly bodied soon
So who gon stand trial now
You a fool not to bow down
Please don’t bring those doubts round
Cause the sky is the limit nigga...
Why you think I gotta SoundCloud?
[Hook]
Tales of a bootleg
All your eggs inside one *hmck*, is you stupid?
Said this is your everything *hmck*
Nigga prove it
Honestly, this the only way I can do this
Tell me is it real?
Minor moves to a major deal
Is it real?
Where my student loans just another bill
Persevere
Just a lil nigga in the field
And they couldn’t care less how you feel
[Verse 2]
What’s crackin’? I’ll turn you to has been
Ballin like I’m Kobe, so I can’t be getting passive
Passion the only thing you lacking
Niggas hate math, but they always use a fraction of effort
A bloody shame, but go get your money
All that I came say
Bump it mayne, I might just go platinum off of Pirate Bay
A bootleg rapper getting bootleg
I might be rich in spirit, but I’m still broke ya doofus
I’ve seen Colin Kapernick hand out more respect to the American flag
Than you to my raps
That feeling is wack
But I’m still (uh) securing the bag
Like white ladies when they standing next to niggas in fact
Bitch I came from the future like I’m Phil
Kicking all that Jazz up out the door
I’m Uncle Phil
Light camera *flash sound*
Now I’m Dr. Phil
Legs crossed like my heart when I tell you, “You can tell me how you feel”
[Verse 3]
Ironic how niggas sell base for Dr. Dre’s
Tryna dodge a case on a everyday basis
Facing Caucasians that always play they’re trump cards
But claim they ain’t racist
Patience (*breathe in*) is key
In the music industry
When you tryna find peace in the shade of money trees
But I gotta get seasoned, I need a little time
Fuck a ear, when you dope, they snorting every line, my guy... (uh)
Record labels wouldn’t reach us
Got me thinking they don’t need us
Calling out to Jesus
He said, “It’s in divine time
Meanwhile, just refine your blessings
By messing with these Einstein’s
Your energy equals, a real emcee squared
They can’t be compared to you, it’s unfair
In His image you’re fashioned
Iron sharpens iron, but child
You are platinum, if only you could fathom
Let me break it down in this drum break
I spit it like it’s ‘95 but I’m born in ‘98
You pump fake, but still get passed over
Four .44’s, shooters blessed by Jay Hova
But I’m more like, the Nigerian Kanye
Don’t play into my arrogance, it’s levels beyond safe
Tripping off the power, I keep that Tommy close
Cause these Angie’s some Rugrats, “snitching”, but I keep a Protocol to go ghost
(And uhhhhh)
If I said it, I penned it
The sky is the limit
They scared of my presence
Genetics, my denim
Was fitted and mended
For a king not a slave man...
Contemplating stacking paper
Family is the motivator
If I get my money right
Imma do some massive favors
Pay my sisters whole tuition
Put my friends in good positions
Give back blessings I was giving
Let my actions show I’m Christian
Been a crooked nigga, but my pen straight
Can you penetrate a market not riding the wave?
Niggas surf with catalogs of music that don’t hold weight
One year hot, rather be warm ten straight
God among the fodder
Artemis, Apollo
Son the moon, you follow
Walk on wavs and water
Hunger for the games
Come thru prim and proper
Soul ain’t up for offer
Shouldn’t even bother... that’s cause
I want to be here now and forever after
I know that I’m destined so it don’t even matter
Lord is my Shepard, and I see the greener pastures
‘Till then, these the tales of a bootleg rapper
