Lyrics Hypocrites - T.R.3

They tell me me chill
Well shit im already cold af
They tell me stay humble
Well shit
Fuck it
I want reparations
Fuck this legislature
And these fucking rappers putting kids in graves
Cause they all the same
One nation under god
Fuck religion
Lookin up im seeing dollars
With the devil
Drop the window
Make em holla
Split your cantaloupe
Pull off in the impala
Fruits of labor
Hold it sweet and stable
Trappin out the bando
Like fuck a label
Where my migo at
He gone cut the cable
I got tunnel vision
El chapo favors
For pussy nigga that be acting dangerous
Cause you know im bussin like a porno flick
And im celibate,
So i don't need ya bitch
But she on my dick
Cause my spirit rich
Like fuck the fame
I want direct deposit
Cash app
Paypal
Google wallet
Then i digital dash
Cant keep up with time when im too busy cashing
Out
Sleeping on money
Like cash in the couch
Card get declined
Just transfer accounts
Gold when i speak
Like money where my mouth at
Ariano beats make nigga go to combat
War is a profit
All your beliefs are adopted
So much trauma
I can see through your optics
Subject matter
Im just killing the object
You talking bout money cars & clothes
And I'm just not feeling it
The world screaming for a hero
But y'all goin keep killing em
Bitch I'm the cure like a serum
Knowledge
On God you so dumb you ain't hearing it
Pop up and banish your entity
Cause I'm not fearing it

Hold up
I lost my job just to hire myself
9 in my right hand just to watch my left
And I still got my soul
Better watch yo step
Graduated high school like the blunt been prep
Perseverance over preparation
Cause you never gone know when your time is up
Id rather make mistakes every mf day
Then sit here and let the end times come
Too comfortable
Bitch nigga try something newer than rapping like maybe a movie
You niggas been acting
The trap ain't for everybody
The point of a trap is to try to get out
But you sellout for cheese
Like your first day out
Tee grizzly ass niggas been ratting on tracks
Just to get out the cage and go back to the trap
What type of shit is that
Like fuck it
Woah
Ain't no more holding back
Cause you niggas been cap like the blue emoji
You niggas ain't real like a ticking rolli
And you niggas ain't gang
Stop finger folding
False claiming
You niggas just taking shots and not aiming
Need a whole machine behind to be famous
Dangerous details
You following Satan
Can't celebrate living with all of these pagans

You talking bout money cars & clothes
And I'm just not feeling it
The world screaming for a hero
But y'all goin keep killing em
Bitch I'm the cure like a serum
Knowledge
On God you so dumb you ain't hearing it
Pop up and banish your entity
Cause I'm not fearing it
Wait
Hold up