Papoose

Papoose - Control songtekst

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[Intro]

I'mma take my time

All I need is 30 seconds, man

30 seconds to you, but it could change my life

I'll tell you anything, man

I'm a Brooklyn nigga

Hey, yo Kendrick

Good looking on that Summer Jam move

But you ain't king of shit
[Verse 1]

Tell Kendrick and TDE they need to lay off the PCP

Far from the king, this is the city of BDP

You'll never be a real west coast artist like Eazy E

You a fucking joke, we laugh at you like he he he

Y'all probably stick dildoes in each other like Stevie G

I mean Stevie J on that sex tape with Eve

Little Sean, Big Sean, let me see ID

Before you rap why you always say B.I.G.?

You ain't Biggie, you can D-I-E

Every time I hear you you're getting cornier like your E-Y-E

Back when we was slaves they used to cut off our balls

Then stuffed 'em in our mouths, kept us away from the girls

Modern day slavery, now they put us in jail

A bunch of men in cells away from the females

This wasn't done just because the color of skin

This was done cause they never wanted us to be men

Kendrick, Kanye, Drake, they all act feminine

Wear a lot of clothes you usually see women in

So the mainstream America finds it interesting

Push 'em up to the forefront, they positioning

You never made it cause you bringing lyrics in

Singing like a lady, you get away with murder, you George Zimmerman

What I'm stating is facts, grams

You only blew up cause you contributed to the feminization of the black man

Woves on you, time to get rid of these crap rappers

Wolfpack on your back, you really a backpacker

Kendrick Lamar – where's your last name rap bastard?

You got two first names, your mama was ass backwards

Always make gun sounds in your songs like ”dew dew dew”

Sounds like a gun out of Star Wars: R2D2

You gassed up, you thought you could just creep upon

The MTV interview that TI was freaking on

You tried to hug her, she pushed off like ”keep your arm”

I've seen that footage when you got curved by Nia Long

Good kid, mad city – you know nothing about the trap

On your album cover you sat on another man's lap

They looked like the Supreme's, you was Diana Ross

Only person in the flip with no shirt – damn it boss

But when they molest you did you have your pamper off?

Baby bottle right there on the table, that right there was yours

A Muslim who eat pork, that's not peace

Bust your chopper's head off and put it to the east

King of New York, why you ain't say you the king of LA?

You from Compton, scared to death from them ese's

Real Bloods, real Crips – MS-13?s

Mexican Mafia, what about them boys from Queens?

They gon' bust and pull it hard right on Southern Boulevard

Staten Island catch a homo, get thrown off the Verrazano

Bronx lay your pussy down, do more than just Boogie Down

Harlem they just flossin', dawg, get their Bumpy Johnsonn off

You know about Brooklyn, they gon' bang my G

And they only let you live cause you came with me

Jay Z co-signed you, you was given the torch

Now you think you Big Meech, you must listen to Ross

Catch you slipping in the city, no permission to floss

Kiss your jewelry goodbye, put your lips on your cross

I represent the lowlives, do the shit for New York

That's why the little man on my shirt sit on the horse

This rap shit gon' be the death of me, I'm driven with force

I'd rather die with a victory than live with a loss

That little bitch you fucking told me, why she missing your calls

She said your dick is so little that you piss on your balls

Man, your shit sound bougy, I'm loading shots in the Uzi

No fingerprints, I'll wipe 'em down like Lil' Boosie

He think it's all good cause Biggie made Juicy

But he should listen to ”Who Shot Ya?”, we bang toolies

Even back then we had hammers under them Coogis

Goonies in front of the corner stores smoking them loosies

Strip you to your socks, I bet you we got a pussy

My bullets hit em' dead in his cooty come out his booty

'Bout to make a movie on roolie, we keep it Gucci

Bullets in the chamber like judge Mathis and Judy
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Taal: Engels

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