paroles de chanson Spun - Pyrophoria

I'm a woman so I don't have real bars
I'm a rock artist by far
Yet I'm painted a rising pop star
Who raps cause it's cute, when I'm a scar
Yes do make pop, yes I am bizarre
But I'm on the wrong radar
They want acoustic guitar
I want crowbar
My rap is played for the laugh
I had a down day, that's why I made that
I never thought it'd be on a map
I bring speed but they don't clap
Scrappy rapper gonna rap
Gonna fuck up the hi hat
They're gonna chitchat
Over what my album's trying to get at
You got a punchline down pat
But missed the poem in the format
I'm no Doja, I'm hellcat
The new Manson to throw stones at
Femme Eminem, you can tip your hat
Too dumb to get my pun
Yet I'm spun for fucking fun
Like the cylinder of a gun
The joke on me has just begun
Has anyone
Realized what I've done
I've made 6 genres honey bun
30 albums and then some
Alone in my basement for fun
They don't know where I'm coming from
They've made my rarity humdrum

This is how I'm spun
I'm not dumb
I'm not Barbie, I'm definitely someone
I make stupid voices for fun
I'm not a punchline or a pun
I'm a bitch who gets shit done

I don't get how you can't make a song in a day
I have so many thoughts
I have so much to say
I already made an entire song today
Why am I this way
The world is grey
I don't want to play sunshine ray or be rainbow gay or come whatever may
I don't often play
My words are knives; my audience an ashtray
Fuck you unless you know how to stray
I do country to show how cheap
It is to sweep
Them off their feet
With some bullshit I admit
I made the day of the album release
They bounce around like sheep
I don't listen to country yet I am bo peep
I don't like country it doesn't dig deep
It hits like half ass falling asleep
And I don't miss an off beat
But this is a secret you must keep
It's yeehaw if you see me on the street

This is how I'm spun
I'm not dumb
I'm not Barbie, I'm definitely someone
I make stupid voices for fun
I'm not a punchline or a pun
I'm a bitch who gets shit done

My voice is fucking lame
I rap all the same
I can tell my story plain
Words that came from rain
Waterlogged paperback in the lane
My arrangements are weird don't complain
All my genres bleed together; I can't contain
I was a girl scout; never been in a gang
No weapons in the house cause I'm insane
My hatred still sits in a gas main
But I still remain
The curators comb over my shit with disdain
Except Germany, Italy, and Spain
Danke schon for hopping on the train
I pronounce everything wrong; I'm a pain
But I am bound by no chain
The radio misses my shine but still to my gain
The audience all has a bullet in the brain
I bring poems to life, maybe in vain
But I do it for me and can't explain
Maybe I will make some change
Nothing deserves to be left the same
I do not deserve to be beaten tame
I like who I became
You can defame, acclaim, exclaim
But it's my music, and I will reclaim

This is how I'm spun
I'm not dumb
I'm not Barbie, I'm definitely someone
I make stupid voices for fun
I'm not a punchline or a pun
I'm a bitch who gets shit done