B.o.B.

B.o.B. - Mission Statement lyrics

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Let me assert my firm belief

That the only thing that we have to fear is...fear itself



Cut the check man [x2]

Bobby!



Ladies and gentlemen

Gentlemen, consider this moment the Genesis

This is the part where you flip the f**k out as you feel the adrenaline

I'm only here to give, I'm only here to give you the experience

Oh what an experience, they probably should've prescribed me with Ritalin

But f**k it, rumor has it A.D.H.D wasn't real, it was just an experiment

All of these years I was taught to be ignorant

Tryin' to figure out why I'm so dif-ferent

Modern day life is set up like a pyramid

I was sleep, man I woke from the ignorance

Wake up now, tryna' sell me a membership

Shittin' on niggas so much that I'm hemorrhaging

Your bitch on my couch auditioning

She wants me to buy her some booty shots

But I can't fix a flat, I'm not Michelin

My mind's overflowing with images

So many thoughts I can never remember them

But I never forget to go straight to the source

I learned to cut out all the middle men

I got no patience for your basics

Time is windiling, you just ain't interesting

No strangers inside of the organization

That shit is strictly prohibited

The music industry is sickening

But no one will ever admit this shit

These niggas ain't making the numbers they make

And shit, half of these niggas pretending



Yo, f**k a hater, f**k a genre

No genre

You can't box it in

They try to box me in but they couldn't box me in

They try to describe me but they just still can't describe me to this day

You'll never be able to describe me

No genre, no genre, no genre

The label



Why do I bother spending time gathering thoughts up?

To prove I go a little bit harder

I'm like Jesus on the microphone

I make vodka from water (shots, shots, shots)

Kinda' like Jimmy Carter, just a little bit darker

The rap game just got a little bit smaller

I just lay down the facts

So lay down and stay down or stay off my sack

Niggas say I ain't dope, need to lay off the crack

Bustin' like a motherf**kin' AR with lasers

Drop a f**kin' bomb on the radar like Adolf was back

I blow a state straight off the map

Hundred round ricochet, when them stray rounds come back

Got to go and get this paper, I can't hang out to chat

Where the, where the, where the players at?

Bring the paper back

Running through the racks like a motherf**kin' pyromaniac

I need a lady that ain't a basic rat, with a crazy gat

With a decent booty hanging out her back

Give that thing a smack like a angry black (pow)

But before I smash gotta' wear a safety hat

Bobby where the mac? Bobby where the mac?

Man Eastside got the flow, had to bring it back

Now motherf**kers acting conscious and shit

Just cause you're dressed like a hippie

Attending the Coachella concert and shit

Don't make you no different than me

Cause I happen to like making money and shit

I'm just being honest, I never make promises

I just pay homage and shit

No Genre you bitch

Bandz
Get this song at:
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amazon.com

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Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: ?

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Language: English

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