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Meyhem Lauren – Wack Rap Niggas lyrics
[Intro]
Word son. It's like the rap game son it's all fucked up, nawmean?
Suspect. Niggas either frontin' talking that super brick shit
Nawmean, ever rapper sells bricks now, son?
Or on the other hand you got these soft niggas, son
Niggas look like females
It's like there ain't no regular niggas still spittin' son
It's all good though
That's what I'm here for my nigga
[Verse 1: Meyhem Lauren]
Hey yo, divine spit deadly with rhyme shit
I'm about to change the climate, the people been blinded
I find it suspicious ya'll niggas bustin' fictitious biscuits
Up in magazines talking tough taking pictures
Hold liquors, compose scriptures, yeah that's my steez
Niggas never sold 20s but they rap out keys
Your false perpetrating lifestyles of criminals
Ya'll niggas never crush minerals into vials
Multiple styles, open my files and analyze
Soak it up speaking the truth ya'll fantasize
True lies spit in disguise about pies
That's your M.O., my observation know what I'm sayin'?
Ya'll paint faulty images that start decayin'
Dismissing all the legends, street shit that ya'll could pray in
I'm full displayin' the livest lyrics known to man
Sit back and take a swig, my real niggas understand
[Hook]
I ain't feeling these wack rap niggas
They broke as fuck talking about they stack mad figures
I ain't fucking with you lames
Your music ain't hot so you start to drop names
You wack rap niggas
Never held a gun but you known to pull triggers
I ain't fucking with you lames
Tight pants and shirts, ya'll niggas dressed like dames
[Verse 2]
It's like the lyrical rapper has left the building
Niggas is either bitches or they obsessed with killing
And I don't mind that killer shit because it's real
But if you gonna talk it let the people know the deal
It's two sides of a coin, you only repping one
That's how I know you niggas ain't talking about shit you've done
Glorifying drugs like yeah I'm selling bricks
But niggas get shot in the face, put behind them shits
Or locked up for seven if the feds do a blitz
On the V.I. floor with they ?? double fits
I'm not a hypocrite so go ahead and make your flips
But understand anytime you hustle it's the risk
Young dukes is counterfeits, my lyrics are U.S. mints
Good money, Queens niggas still hungry
I stay on my grime repping the streets
Dropping jewels over beats, you wack rappers just some cheats
[Hook]
[Verse 3]
Then you got the other extreme
These soft wack rappers should model for Maybelline
Rocking tight pants with rhinestones and size small jackets
Thinking that they fresh but they whole style backwards
Claiming that they hip hop and street shit is played out
Go to any ghetto probably see somebody layed out
How could a reflection of today be outdated
You tight shirt niggas got gassed and inflated
Living in your fantasy worlds without crimes
On the streets niggas still sell drugs with black nines
Jails is still packed, people still get clapped
And inner city adolescents still don't know how to act
I'm not saying glorify but don't dare deny
What goes on from Californ-i to Bedstuy
I'm tying in the game son, shit is unacceptable
Go to hell sus, burn out a testicle
Word up, this is Meyhem Lauren nigga
All you soft ass frontin' niggas
Don't even speak to me when you see me, nigga
Analyze my fucking resumé, word the fuck up
[Hook]
Word up, this is Outdoorsmen nigga
Meyhem Lauren, we don't play that wack shit
Ain't nobody frontin' on the mic
Ain't nobody dressing like a metrosexual
We don't play those games, respect my swag nigga
I'm a man of such integrity
I'm so stand-up, ya'll niggas could learn something
Word up son, talking all that street shit
Ya'll niggas never had bitches sniffing coke off...
Word son. It's like the rap game son it's all fucked up, nawmean?
Suspect. Niggas either frontin' talking that super brick shit
Nawmean, ever rapper sells bricks now, son?
Or on the other hand you got these soft niggas, son
Niggas look like females
It's like there ain't no regular niggas still spittin' son
It's all good though
That's what I'm here for my nigga
[Verse 1: Meyhem Lauren]
Hey yo, divine spit deadly with rhyme shit
I'm about to change the climate, the people been blinded
I find it suspicious ya'll niggas bustin' fictitious biscuits
Up in magazines talking tough taking pictures
Hold liquors, compose scriptures, yeah that's my steez
Niggas never sold 20s but they rap out keys
Your false perpetrating lifestyles of criminals
Ya'll niggas never crush minerals into vials
Multiple styles, open my files and analyze
Soak it up speaking the truth ya'll fantasize
True lies spit in disguise about pies
That's your M.O., my observation know what I'm sayin'?
Ya'll paint faulty images that start decayin'
Dismissing all the legends, street shit that ya'll could pray in
I'm full displayin' the livest lyrics known to man
Sit back and take a swig, my real niggas understand
[Hook]
I ain't feeling these wack rap niggas
They broke as fuck talking about they stack mad figures
I ain't fucking with you lames
Your music ain't hot so you start to drop names
You wack rap niggas
Never held a gun but you known to pull triggers
I ain't fucking with you lames
Tight pants and shirts, ya'll niggas dressed like dames
[Verse 2]
It's like the lyrical rapper has left the building
Niggas is either bitches or they obsessed with killing
And I don't mind that killer shit because it's real
But if you gonna talk it let the people know the deal
It's two sides of a coin, you only repping one
That's how I know you niggas ain't talking about shit you've done
Glorifying drugs like yeah I'm selling bricks
But niggas get shot in the face, put behind them shits
Or locked up for seven if the feds do a blitz
On the V.I. floor with they ?? double fits
I'm not a hypocrite so go ahead and make your flips
But understand anytime you hustle it's the risk
Young dukes is counterfeits, my lyrics are U.S. mints
Good money, Queens niggas still hungry
I stay on my grime repping the streets
Dropping jewels over beats, you wack rappers just some cheats
[Hook]
[Verse 3]
Then you got the other extreme
These soft wack rappers should model for Maybelline
Rocking tight pants with rhinestones and size small jackets
Thinking that they fresh but they whole style backwards
Claiming that they hip hop and street shit is played out
Go to any ghetto probably see somebody layed out
How could a reflection of today be outdated
You tight shirt niggas got gassed and inflated
Living in your fantasy worlds without crimes
On the streets niggas still sell drugs with black nines
Jails is still packed, people still get clapped
And inner city adolescents still don't know how to act
I'm not saying glorify but don't dare deny
What goes on from Californ-i to Bedstuy
I'm tying in the game son, shit is unacceptable
Go to hell sus, burn out a testicle
Word up, this is Meyhem Lauren nigga
All you soft ass frontin' niggas
Don't even speak to me when you see me, nigga
Analyze my fucking resumé, word the fuck up
[Hook]
Word up, this is Outdoorsmen nigga
Meyhem Lauren, we don't play that wack shit
Ain't nobody frontin' on the mic
Ain't nobody dressing like a metrosexual
We don't play those games, respect my swag nigga
I'm a man of such integrity
I'm so stand-up, ya'll niggas could learn something
Word up son, talking all that street shit
Ya'll niggas never had bitches sniffing coke off...
Lyrics taken from
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