paroles de chanson _____________ - Lil Ugly Mane

I guess it′s not too late to find another niche (No)
Always wished I woulda died when I was 26 (Ah)
Laid up in the sheets with a honeydip
Not a worry in my mind cause I quit
Stressed raps and sounds that make pounds and props
Feelin' like I′m bound to these downtown blocks
I don't know nobody guwap'd up
I′m livin′ in a trapped up in the city limits
Every minute, lots of shit I never finished
I don't even want a little smidgen
All these critics try to tell me my music is a shitty gimmick
Shit, I′m just spitting for the fuck of spitting
I ain't worried about some idiots that caught up in the analytics
Never liked the limelight, never was compatible
Only press you gettin′ outta Ugly is the lateral
People too concerned with strictly adding up their capital
But dollars are collapsible, so y'all ain′t even rational
But just to keep my motives in the open
Never wanted no exposure, never needed to be noticed
Never bothered with promotion, kept the photo out of focus
The mental state was humble
Though the rhymes was braggadocious
Wandered with my hoodie up down narcissistic avenues
Vastly captivated, turnin' rappin' into stacking loot
But why pursue that gratitude if nothing is a absolute?
They aptitude is too acute to navigate my attributes (Yup)
But I′m way too impatient to wait
For stupid vacant disgraces to wake
This the human race and y′all standing in place, it's a waste
It′s the age of information
And all the truth and all the lies
Are just there for the taking
The temporary and ancient
Face it, you're basic
Safe and complacent, you′ll never escape it
Totally okay with being under surveillance
This is not praising the foil hats
Y'all are obvious monkeys, go crawl back to your bunkers
And boil rats for your lunches
Shit is too far out of your clutches
Your protests and disruptions just confuse all the dunces
Anyone with brain function already deduced all your hunches
The sky′s blue bitch, give me newer assumptions
I'm in the Unabomber shack with a Buddha sack
'Cause the rap game′s neutered and truly whack
′Cause rappers milk every last drop til' their hooters flat
Nursing off the same dead putrefied titty
I don′t remember tellin' you that you could ride wit me