Print

Broadcasting live from the World tour with Muhammad, my man I hope that y'all understand Conquering land ain't part of my plan Put my forehead all on your sand I put my heart in the palm of your hand I make art, and they call it a jam You play it loud in your car, and they call you a fan Carve it in your skin, now you're a stan I arrived with a wandering band That climbed out of a van And held the mic like a wand in my dominant hand Assume a confident posture and stance And wrecked a record that we chopped in advance Damn, how many times I gotta kill it Before they finally admit they kinda feel it? Been shining for a minute Only if that's a symbol for infinite And I'm too consistent not to be considered It's inconsiderate—I promise that I'm not offended I'm dope for dope's sake Cool being me in my own space Thought I told them what I'm all about Letras de cancionesWhy they always wanna count me out? I never bought what they bought Instead, I fed the kids I never rocked with the corporate I don't sell their ish I ain't in the crowd shopping for a better chick I'm all about the penmanship, and I'm a specialist See, the music that I make, it ain't about escaping I take a look at the world they made and reshape it If I can chop a beat break based on my imagination And make my conversation align on it adjacent And a room full of strangers cry in congregation Why wouldn't I modify the whole arrangement? I'm inspired by the most amazing things— Marginalized teens writing their names on trains I'm rocking chains with a piece on it If it's beats, Ali gon' try to beast on it It's from America's least wanted— The day is coming that you all hate Y'all can't escape it like police warrants Thought I told them what I'm all about Why they always wanna count me out? From Letras Mania