Yeah

This ain't a love song

I wrote this shit as a freestyle and sent it to Exrack

And he said it was fire so

You know, I decided to drop it

He ma ****

Okay

Yeah

Looking at the clouds it's about to rain

I'm like damn I forgot to pack my clothes again (oh shit)

And now I'm out the house it's an act again

I'm giving out fake smiles and the handshakes (and the handshakes)

I can't lie this shit kinda takes my soul away

I rather be gaming at home till my hand aches

I wanna be raging the road in a motorcade

But now I dey think about my tfare to lagere (bus)

I just spent a couple Ks on my foodstuffs

Money for soup bros e no even dey full pot (nah)

Just as I been dey look pot

Asking why e no dey hot

Gas just finish before the food done

Look boss (e no go finish ke)

Dem say I dey face life with clear eyes (how)

And I for try this high lifestyle but e too cost (uh hmm)

Now how I go post my next freestyle if I no do sub

(and I don't wanna fight with you)

**** try to show each other out like who's boss

Talking bout updates but they never put their dudes on

Nigeria finds a way to always get your mood fucked

Just went on twitter (ok)

Yeah, just to see murder after a kidnapping

She wasn't sleeping in a school bus (damn)

Look, kinda ironic how we got a lot on our plate

And we still struggle to fill a spoon dawg (fill a spoon dawg)

He really said we go chew corn

Presido got everybody farming like who are you dawg?

(who are you dawg)

E be like pandemic

Even the bike man tapping his screen

To make a few bucks cos fuel cost (tap tap tap)

(shey you dey do tapswap)

Once you stay quiet you could always hear the fools talk

Don't interrupt, let them finish, let the fool stop

Don't interrupt, let them finish, let the see

How I kill it with the pen like I'm John wick

You see em talking bout they drip but I was born sick

Even the water feels my flow how I talk slick

I'ma let these **** know that they talk's cheap

How I kill it with the pen like I'm John wick

I see em talk about they drip but I was born sick

You make music without a soul it's really boring

You make music without a soul, mehn

Stabbed in the back felt a lot of pain

Now I'm Quasimodo with a hunch but not from Notredame (I am not)

I know a couple dudes that I can't trust again

We still talk but they could tell that something's fucking changed

Not again

Heard that **** talking, he mentioned that word again

Come again

What you say?

Is you good boy?

How is you not insane always talking bout steeze

You think I give a shit how you look boy? (fuck how you look boy)

My pops said your brothers would look up to you

Anytime he sat me down to talk it got me shook boy (shook)

Still confused about how the future looks boy

I still dey move, pull up shine my 32 boy

Still dey snooze when opportunity look boy

I'm still a hypocrite

Cos I could blame it on the hood boy

Yeah, (blame it on the hood)

But anything I say to cut the work is an excuse boy

And I don't wanna fight with you