School’s Out

Verse 1

These rappers lives are like beds, most of ‘em fucking made up
Should hear them talking ‘bout how how how how how how how they came up
They talking ‘bout they gangsta and how they leaving niggas laid up
Can’t believe they talk that bullshit just to get their fame up
But with ease real niggas knowing that them niggas fake up
Bitch you can’t match me
I don’t need your ass to fucking flame up
I guess that’s what I’m here for
The hope that real niggas always prayed for
I mean damn, became a savior since a day old
Don’t get me wrong
I ain’t never called myself “Lord”
But Lord, why this music thing take a nigga so long?
My heart cold, my speech slow
Many fake niggas, I don’t need those
I’d rather be all by myself
Ain’t losing shit, no repo
Young niggas doing wrong shit right, right?
Could be that my eyes…don’t see no good; dark is new bright
Man I feel for my niggas who got it worse
And niggas still find it hard to go to church
The pastors verse reach us hard when the nigga preaching
One’s for the money
Two’s for the bitches
Three’s for the fact God’s answering my wishes
Done with the phonies
True to the niggas
Please save your pity for the one who really need it
Hoping one day Dice say he finally get it
Zoe finally winning
I’m shouting, “96 Boyz” to my nigga Lincoln
And I’m the motherfucking prince for a fucking reason
My life ain’t Bel-Air, nigga it’s just hell here
Said, “I’m the motherfucking prince for a fucking reason”
My life ain’t Bel-Air, nigga it’s just hell here