Dear Labels lyrics by Hobo Johnson - original song full text. Official Dear Labels lyrics, 2024 version | LyricsMode.com
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Hobo Johnson – Dear Labels lyrics
[Intro]
Oh, here's a story for you
Two chickens walking down the street
It's actually one chicken
One chicken walks down the street
Looks across the road to another chicken, he sees an older chicken Much more plump than he's used to
And the other chicken goes
"Hey, what's up? Yo"

[Verse]
What the deal with young chickens?
I want an older chicken who knows that grown business, you know?
I'm narcissistic, look at me
I'm a artist EBT
Couldn't help the fact I'm starving for that MTV
And a deal, but a 360 one at that
But it'd be pretty shitty, I'd be sitting pretty where I'm at
Pay my rent and I'll sell you my soul
If you could please just trade it for a french bread roll
I'm fucking starving, look at me
Now, dear labels, can't you see?
I'm the one that fucking bleeds tears and sweats every day of the week
Now, look at me
I won't write you a fucking pop song
But I'll write you a analytical thesis about your mom, and why she's a great woman
Look at me
I want it more than anything else than I could ever fucking be
Look at me
Now look at me
I can kinda play piano but, but not really
Look at me, look at me, look at me
Look at me, look at me, I'm all right
Right?
Please, look at me, look at me, look at me
Look at me, I'm all right
Dear labels, uh
But on a day that’s not so far
You're gonna hear me whether you like it or not
On a day that’s not so far
You're gonna hear me whether you like it or not, whether you like it or not
'Cause, 'cause I'm 2016 Fat Joe, who just did seven and a half years of straight cardio
I'm rap game's House, except I'm not a fucking doctor though
Wow!
Tell them labels I'm everything they'd ever want
If all they want is a rapper that calls his mom daily
Just to see what's going on, 'cause he misses her
And she misses her baby


[Outro]
Please help me
Please help me buy my mom a house that I can go to every fucking weekend
Please, please, please help me buy my mom a house that I can go to every fucking weekend
I’m an artist with a certain special something, and that something makes me really, really sad because of nothing
I’m an artist with a certain special something, and that something makes me really, really sad because of nothing
I’m an artist with a certain special something, and that something makes me really, really sad because of nothing
I’m an artist with a certain special something, and that something makes me really, really sad because of nothing
I’m an artist with a certain special something, and that something makes me really, really sad because of nothing
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Lyrics taken from /hobo_johnson-dear_labels-1605611.html

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Songwriters: Frank Jorge Lopes Jr.
Dear Labels lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.

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