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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Marlon Craft
Marlon Craft
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Marlon Cirker
Marlon Cirker
Songwriter
Arbus Beats
Arbus Beats
Songwriter
Xmane
Xmane
Songwriter
Sly5thAve
Sly5thAve
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Arbus Beats
Arbus Beats
Producer
Xmane
Xmane
Producer
Sly5thAve
Sly5thAve
Producer

Lyrics

Fuck all that patient shit, they wanna argue I ain't take the bait for shit, this ain't art school Fuck your lil' high-brow critique Before I bow in defeat, ain't walked down my street Never been the "that's the way it is" type of dude Fuck that, I'm a "tell you how it is" type of rude Bust that, type of moves Light a fuse to bring light to that type of bruise So deep under, people scared We could only feel it, but we can't see it Lot of these dudes only type it, they can't be it Champion any man, region, fuck what can't be in Can't beat 'em when thеy can't see them On that free the man being Yеah, and I barely puff but trust that I beat Diddy on any care lingo Keep with me, many dare to think so Write with the blood of fakes, though And it's very rare, the ink low But honestly, fuck a rap compliment What the fuck's a bar to a prophet, bitch? What the fuck's a threat to the option-less? I need this shit to breathe and I gots to live Yeah, think the time is yours, 'cause online is yours That's what you grindin' for? Watch when we cut the net like the Final Four I bet you don't got the chest to back that lion's roar, pussy Yeah, push me, I promise I'm used to stress, all I could be is honest I used to fret that I couldn't even keep conscious Thanks to my weakness, I couldn't be the strongest out Huh, situation game critical Stop playing with me this year, man, I tried to tell y'all I'm not playin' no fuckin' games this year Don't look at me no type of way Don't fuckin' s- fuckin' subtweet me, whatever you wanna do Don't do shit this year, look I'm no stranger to anger and rage Getting aimed at my head by a lame 'Cause they name got some fame, but they so insecure That they keep themselves locked away And I get to be the real me all up in their proximity Who the one that got you stressed, lil' me? Stop throwin' stones 'fore you get the boot, word to Sicily I make the jazz cats listen to raps I make the hood kids listen to sax I make the white dudes understand which straws they pull out they ass I got everybody givin' me dap, huh Craft never speak to just one ol' faction That picture's incomplete, that's a demo graphic Yes, the whole team's 'boutta be N-O backwards Won't stop 'til the whole scene accept no actors The music gon' eventually bring me power, word to 50 If I'm the chosen one, it's only 'cause I picked me Let a label, manager or agent try to Taylor Swift me I'll have a custom grave tailored swiftly, you dig me?
Writer(s): Marlon Sean Cirker, Kevin Leslie Theodore, Sylvester Uzoma Onyejiaka, David Callandar Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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