B.o.B.
B.o.B. - Mission Statement songtekst
Je score:
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