Devil's Work

I’m sick of these hoe ass rappers, that don’t be rappin' about shit

I hope they all fall backwards, I hope they never make it rich

I hope that every year they older they just rap a little less

I really hope they dream is over, because this rap shit all a mess

We do not need more rappers, we really need some trade labor

We need more health care workers, go make some good paper

Do not learn Ableton learn how to drive a semi

Quit puffin vapes all day, there no job for those red eyes

What you really rap about? Oh wow damn, you smoke a lot?

Oh you from what part of town? But you never span the block

You ain’t never sold a drug, you ain’t ever held a gun

Stop tryna be what you are not, your pops a bitch and your his son

What’s his job go work with dad, make some mula get a pad

Then find a chubby girl that’s bad, marry her then be a dad

They take they ass to Disneyland

Don’t be salty bro be glad, ain’t no shame, quit chasin fame, be basic, you’re not amazing

I’m amazing like jeezy back then when Yeezy was a Jesus piece and not a nazi piece of shit

I’ve been too legit to quit since 96 when I was in the womb

Never been another task for me except to make a tune

There’s a place for me history I’m finna make some room

And for the rest of you I’m spelling doom, say yo fucken grace, when I see you bitches step outside you gettin in your place

I got the king I got the ace, you either match me or pay

Motivational rappers, go find your ass a seminar

I’m sick of optimist speaking, stop telling rappers they’re gonna go far

What the fuck is y’all thinking, telling all these rappers they up to par

When all of them are stinking, they at La Brea stuck in the tar

You think you making movement just because you spent some money

Funny, you paying these promoters who barely have a business running

They book the cheapest shitty venues with horrid sound and engineers and when your three songs is over only your homies really cheer

Let’s break down, on the line-up is 20 clowns, all of them paid 50 rounds, promoter gained now 1000 pounds and didn’t bother to pack the house

I hope you did some good networking, I hope you got some good content

Yeah, whatever the fuck that bullshit means, we both know these shows not it

The promoter didn’t make profit, nah the venue didn’t make profit

Nah now everybody act toxic, yah so think before you drop pockets

And while we’re at it fuck open mics, bruh all them bitches be overpriced

The audience is just fake nice but to be fair the

talent sparse

These rappers choke when they spit they bars, they dance around and then shake they arms

They just playin the MP3s, that shit is real sickening

I know you barely got your GED, but you gotta learn your lyrics please

Bare minimum in the streets, you gotta practice what you preach

Hustler is what you claim to be, but you more like the magazine

You supposed to memorize what you say, not shake your body on stage

For the female rappers, okay, but you male rappers so strange

Y’all dancers not rappers go work at the ballet

I’m at the shooting range and it sound the same

Some things just never change

Bitches have been bitches since the dawn of mankind came

Look at Abel and look at Cain, yo jealous bro could crack yo brain, and he won’t feel a sip of shame

I’m on my solo dolo wave, my only trust is in my babe

I don’t fuck with any rappers yeah I barely know a name, is it Matthew is it James? Probably Judah, all the same, hating ass, trash ass, bitch ass. boof ass, stupid ass, useless ass, cluessless ass, foolish ass, dummy ass, ugly ass rappers need to get clapped, they shit whack, they need to get smoked like a big pack of Zig Zags

Not to incite violence, I want the metaphorically closing of the eyelids

I need the complete silence like December nights, can we please cut the mic

I would rather listen to some paint dry that you guys

Get a clue guys

I don’t mean to be rude guys

I am too nice

Like Jay Z tweeting bout Mac

Not like I always got your back

Not like I will send you a rack

I am not nice like that

I’m the horned beast, foreign to peace

Sworn to ease the world of pests

I’m the GOAT, I’m the best

The devil played a horn in heaven

I use a microphone

Where I roam

The devils work what I perform

I was sent to slay with sword

And rid the earth of all before

All who swore they’d crown the throne

I will come for flesh and bone

For I kill kings, the god below

Me