J. Cole – 1985 lyrics

I heard one of em’ dissed me, I’m suprised
I ain’t trippin’, listen good to my reply
Come here lil’ man, let me talk with ya’
See if I can paint for you the larger picture
Congrats ’cause you made it out your mama’s house
I hope you make enough to buy your mom a house
I see your watch icy and your whip foreign
I got some good advice, never quit tourin’
‘Cause that’s the way we eat here in this rap game
I’m f*ckin’ with your funky lil’ rap name
I hear your music and I know that rap’s changed
A bunch of folks would say that that’s a bad thing
‘Cause everything’s commercial and it’s pop now
Trap drums is the sh*t that’s hot now
See, I’ve been on a quest for the next wave
But never mind, that was just a segue
I must say, by your songs I’m unimpressed, hey
But I love to see a Black man get paid
And plus, you havin’ fun and I respect that
But have you ever thought about your impact? These white kids love that you don’t give a f*ck
‘Cause that’s exactly what’s expected when your skin’s Black
They wanna see you dab, they wanna see you pop a pill
They wanna see you tatted from your face to your heels
And somewhere deep down, f*ck it, I gotta keep it real
They wanna be Black and think your song is how it feels
So when you turn up, you see them turnin’ up too
You hit the next city, collect your money when it’s due
You gettin’ that paper, swimmin’ in bitches, I don’t blame you
You ain’t thinkin’ ’bout the people that’s lookin’ like me and you
True, you got better sh*t to do
You coulda bought a crib with all that bread you done blew
I know you think this type of revenue is never endin’
But I wanna take a minute just to tell you that ain’t true
One day, them kids that’s listening gon’ grow up
And get too old for that sh*t that made you blow up
Now your shows lookin’ light cause they don’t show up
Which unfortunately means the money slow up
Now you scramblin’ and hopin’ to get hot again
But you forgot you only popped ’cause you was ridin’ trends
Now you old news and you goin’ through regrets
‘Cause you never bought that house, but you got a Benz
And a bunch of jewels and a bunch of shoes
And a bunch of fake friends, I ain’t judgin’ you
I’m just tellin’ you what’s probably gon’ happen when you rappin’
‘Bout the type of sh*t you rappin’ ’bout
It’s a faster route to the bottom
I wish you good luck
I’m hoping for your sake that you ain’t dumb as you look
But if it’s really true what people sayin’
And you call yourself playin’ with my name
Then I really know you f*cked, trust
I’ll be around forever ’cause my skills is tip-top
To any amateur niggas that wanna get rocked
Just remember what I told you when your sh*t flop
In five years you gon’ be on Love & Hip-Hop, nigga 1985, I arrived
33 years, damn, I’m grateful I survived
We wasn’t s’posed to get past 25
Jokes on you motherf*cker, we alive
All these niggas popping now is young
Everybody say the music they make is dumb
I remember I was 18
Money, n*gger, parties, I was on the same thing
You gotta give a boy a chance to grow some
Everybody talkin’ like they know somethin’ these days
Niggas actin’ woke, but they broke, umm
I respect the struggle but you all frontin’ these days
Man, they barely old enough to drive
To tell them what they should do, who the f*ck am I?

Playboi Carti – Drop Lyrics

[Intro]
K-naan
Let go let go let go (drop drop drop)
Let go let go let go (drop drop drop)
Drop drop drop drop
[Hook]
Pouring up the lean, yeah that drop
Pull up to the party in the drop
Yeah these bitches see me and they drop
Drop drop drop drop drop drop (what)
Pouring up the red, yeah the drop
Yeah my niggas swaggin and we drop
Drop drop drop drop drop (what yeah)
In the drop
Pouring up the lean (yeah yeah yeah)
Shoutout to the plug (yeah yeah yeah)
Pouring up the drop (yeah yeah yeah)
Bitches come in fucking and they drop
All my niggas loaded you’d drop
Mercedes coupe, yeah the drop
Drop drop drop drop
All my niggas drippin and they drop
All these bitches fucking cus im up
You know im clouted up im booted up
Drop drop drop drop drop
[Verse]
Yeah you see me on the tv zooted up
All in vip we booted up
Ashley, fucked her in the ashton
Courtney, Damn hoe you boring (Aye Yeah turn it up)
Damn woke up in the morning
Chewing on my dick like bubblegum
Bitch like to fuck me for some fun
For some funds, they don’t get none
Drop drop drop drop
[Hook]
Pouring up the lean yeah that drop
Pull up to the party in the drop
Yeah these bitches see me and they drop
Drop drop drop drop drop drop (what)
Pouring up the red, yeah the drop
Yeah my niggas swaggin and we drop
Drop drop drop drop drop (what yeah)
In the drop
Pouring up the lean (yeah yeah yeah)
Shoutout to the plug (yeah yeah yeah)
What

Russ – Sore Losers Lyrics

[Intro]
Yeah
So many sore losers keep tryna talk to me
Y’all need to focus on winning, stop focusing on me
Yeah
[Verse]
Thirteen thousand in Portugal, that’s arena talk
You still on your Training Day, you Ethan Hawke
Rappers with your get rich quick scheme gimmicks
Instead of hating you should focus on your sixteenth minute
We are not side by side, ain’t no split-screen image
I’ma be around forever like a Springsteen ticket
I’m just bathing in success, yeah I rinse clean with it
I put my best foot forward like a Nowitzki pivot
I got blitzkrieg critics
They ain’t wastin’ no time
But I ain’t wastin’ no money, so I pay ’em no mind
That’s a lie, I be snappin’
That’s my fault, I’m adjustin’ to people spreadin’ lies about me
Just hatin’ and judging
For the sake of discussion, in the hopes of some clout
Shit’s been stressful, I just need some pretty hoes with some mouth
Put my home in the South, 10K square feet
Name your favorite rappers now, let’s play “where’s he?”
Probably chasin’ a hit, probably lost in LA
Probably paying for likes, probably paying for plays
Probably owns a Corolla, but probably rents the Aventador
Business manager furious, like “What the fuck did you spend that for?”
Fuck y’all though, I’ma keep on winnin’
I got angels all around me, y’all can keep on sinnin’
‘Cause ain’t no way y’all are fuckin’ up my light light
I spent two million just on taxes, somethin’ light light
In hindsight, I was right all along, life of a don
Writin’ songs, all those hooks were a fight to get on
You gotta see it way before it happens, yes yes
I’ma be the greatest, I won’t settle for next best
Got your girl in her birthday suit, that’s best dressed
Plus she likes girls too like Ellen DeGeneres
First class Emirates that’s how I’m flyin’
SUVs on the tarmac, that’s how I’m arrivin’
Presidential treatment, ooh this life so good
White skin, they can’t believe that I got friends in the hood
I know the love songs and melodies throw y’all off
Don’t give a fuck about your face tats, we know y’all soft
People we know with face tats got them for a reason
You use them for the gang culture aesthetic, you reachin’
A lot of kids are poppin’ xans and sippin’ lean now
A lot of rappers using Instagram to teach how
A lot of kids OD’ed that you don’t read ’bout
‘Cause they don’t follow rappers, they just follow fiends now
But I’m the bad guy for callin’ it out
I come in clutch with the truth, y’all are stallin’ it out
I only get in trouble when I say the truth
Which means you gettin’ fed lies everyday, you fools
Do your research before you try and speak on my name
Rappers wearing CZs and leasing the chains
The beats classic, I amaze myself
I’m a boss, I’m a owner, yeah I pay myself
Fuck the capes of society, I saved myself
Even after all the millions bitch, I stayed myself
I still take my mom with me, Bugus still right here
New people think my buzz got here in a lightyear
Fuck y’all, this ain’t a Toy Story
I eat Nigerian, save some moimoi for me
Yeah, lot of y’all girls I coulda hit
But I’m the type to pass the pussy to stay home and cut a hit
Never fuck a chick at her house, she got exes
I just bought a crib, I got guns, I got exits
Cameras at the entrance
Try if you want to
Bugus told me, “God forbid they get you, I got you”
I’m an idol, people treat me like Billy
Singin’ and rappin’ goin’ platinum, people treat me like Drizzy
Take the studio with me
Set up shop in the telly
I’ve watched a lot of rappers talk but then they flop like Belly
There ain’t shit you can tell me, you can save that shit
Fake convos before favors, I hate that shit
Yesterday turned down a 150,000
I ain’t trippin’ ’bout it
I get that every week like allowance
From my independent catalog
Fuck these rec league rappers tryna battle ‘Bron
Stay in your lane, this is big business
Move bitch, get back like Chris Bridges
I remember only sellin’ like six tickets
Now I make the girls crazy like Sid Vicious
I coulda played it different, coulda silenced all my truths
Coulda buddied up with rappers for the sake of looking cool
But it’s not in me to be fake, I can’t do it
I can see through it, man this game is translucent
They twist the truth for the headline drama
Clicks create traffic, traffic creates dollars
The sheep believe it, they ain’t up on game yet
Smooth rides ain’t as fun to watch as trainwrecks (damn)
Controversy is currency, controversy is clout
That’s why my haters keep my name in their mouth
Y’all are hopeless, this is a decade of devotion
It’s hard to stop my movement when I’m already in motion
This ain’t luck, this is by design
I had to work in the dark for my light to shine
A lot of people are dope, they just quit too soon
A lot of rappers go broke, ’cause they got rich too soon (damn)
My confidence plus my success is just a mirror for some
It forces them to look around and see what they haven’t done
That’s a line for any hater, y’all are mad at yourselves
Judging every move I make, y’all distractin’ yourselves
You could do this shit too if you wanted
But you would rather sit around and bitch and make comments
Oh well, suit yourself, be miserable
I’m country-hoppin’ in a jet, that’s the visual
I saw this coming in my hoodie with the plaid flannel
I bet on myself, yeah I had to gamble
I feel like I’m half god, half mammal
Bitch I turned my life into the Travel Channel
I’m not home, I’m in Stockholm
With heated floors and the beds with the soft foam
It’s like clockwork watching sore losers poke their heads out
Every time I big myself up, they get stressed out
I’m the best out, yeah I said it
Self-made millionaire, you know what’s up with the credits
I’m the best out, yeah I said it
Self-made millionaire, you know what’s up with the credits
[Outro]
Bitch, yeah
Produced, mixed, mastered—

Mac DeMarco – Is It Boy Lyrics

[Verse 1]
Exercise to stay alive
Another year has gone and passed you by
Waking up to coffee cup
Stretch it off, rip it up
[Verse 2]
When the old man gets to see it
He’ll be whistling
All his worries away
And I know just how you see them
Keep believin’
That you’ll find your foot someday
[Chorus 1]
But you won’t, will you boy
But no you won’t will you boy
It’s not what you want, is it boy
It’s not what you want
[Verse 3]
Exercise another way
To live your life, some other day ahead
Sleepin’ in the day begins
You decide to rise up from your bed
[Verse 4]
When the old man gets to see it
Understand that all his dreamin’ days are gone
And I hope now that you’ll feel it
Your belief in all this nonsense is done
[Chorus 2]
But it’s not, is it boy
No it’s not, is it boy
So take what you’ve got, can’t you boy
Take what you’ve got

EDEN – Fake Love (unreleased) (alternative version) Lyrics

You’ve been confusing since the day I met you
Another night chasing, this feels like home
Since I’ve been miles away from change
Outside or inside looking dazed
Just wash the glitter off your face and go home
And this enthralling shadow’s gone, ghost town
It’s strange to think that we were strangers once
It’s square one
I guess it’s something where I want more than I’ve got
But I can’t ask you for the things you don’t feel
Don’t
Cause I don’t want no fake love, fake love, fake love
Don’t wanna know no fake friends, forced smiles to save us
I don’t wanna know no fake love, fake love, fake love
Just say what you wanna say
And I’ll still be here
It’s easy when you’ve nothing to lose
And I’ll still be there
Cause I’ve got no hope
Yeah
She told me love me fast or take it slow
I said I’m going nowhere fast as hell
And keeping with the times we gotta keep it on the low
Midnight habits burning through the summer since the snow and
I finally feel myself again
It’s been so long, I thought I’d see the end
I guess you need ends to begin again
Again, again
Cause this is nothing we ain’t seen before
Lived through it I ain’t overdosed
The sky is falling like it always does
Can’t you see a storm’s watching over us
Let it rain
The clouds look heavy, but they bare no weight
Scars can’t hurt you, bruises will fade
Don’t
Cause I don’t want no fake love, fake love, fake love
Don’t wanna know no fake friends, forced smiles to save us
I don’t wanna know no fake love, fake love, fake love
Just say what you wanna say
And I’ll still be here
It’s easy when you’ve nothing to lose
And I’ll still be there
Cause I’ve got no hope
Don’t
Cause I don’t want no fake love, fake love, fake love
Don’t wanna know no fake friends, forced smiles to save us
I don’t wanna know no fake love, fake love, fake love
Just say what you wanna say

Carrie Underwood – Before he cheat Lyrics

No, not on me
‘Cause I dug my key into the side
Of his pretty little souped-up four-wheel drive
Carved my name into his leather seats
I took a Louisville slugger to both head lights
I slashed a hole in all four tires
Maybe next time he’ll think before he cheats
Oh, maybe next time he’ll think before he cheats
Oh, before he cheats
Oh Right now, he’s probably slow dancing
With a bleached-blond tramp
And she’s probably getting frisky
Right now, he’s probably buying
Her some fruity little drink
‘Cause she can’t shoot whiskey
Right now, he’s probably up behind her
With a pool-stick
Showing her how to shoot a combo
And he don’t know
I dug my key into the side
Of his pretty little souped-up four-wheel drive
Carved my name into his leather seats
I took a Louisville slugger to both head lights
I slashed a hole in all four tires
Maybe next time he’ll think before he cheats
Right now, she’s probably up singing some
White-trash version of Shania karaoke
Right now, she’s probably saying “I’m drunk”
And he’s a-thinking that he’s gonna get lucky
Right now, he’s probably
Dabbing on three dollars
Worth of that bathroom Polo
Oh, and he don’t know
That I dug my key into the side
Of his pretty little souped-up four-wheel drive
Carved my name into his leather seats
I took a Louisville slugger to both head lights
I slashed a hole in all four tires
Maybe next time he’ll think before he cheats
I might have saved a little trouble for the next girl
‘Cause the next time that he cheats
Oh, you know it won’t be on me!