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cam james - too bad lyrics

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i twist my fingers like 2pac
washin’ my sins i lose track it’s like loose socks
where the f-ck my support comin from when that noose drops
y’all got me or, am i dependin’ on ghost figures
to keep away gold diggers when i record
i gotta focus, no time to watch the lotus
that celeb pulled up in, i been busy bullyin’ pens
better say what i want, i been runnin’ it like i’m haunted
don’t flaunt it, i know i got it though, confident as the whole f-ck
the type you call a hoe, and a slut, evoking no l-st
no time for the pandering, postin’ shit about scandal
n talking’ shit on ya friends, i ain’t really got those
only thing touching my cheese is my f-ckin’ nachos
you ain’t got goals, you dreamin’ about one days, and maybe afters
i’m squarin’ up with lebron you tryna play the rafters
you journeymannin’, got traded off of the raptors
to the d league, 50 said it best, hustlin’ backwards
i’m tired of f-ckin’ waitin’ i
ain’t got a reputation for bein’ a patient guy
comin’ for yo spot, get up outta that booth unless you ready to die
turn ya self esteem to spaghetti, give fetty ya eye
can’t see me, on my bohemian rhapsody
queens lovin’ my lyrics they askin’ me how to rep at my shows
it’s comin’ i promise, when i’m startin’ to see some commas
i’m fallin’ back, the greatest let the haters do the honors
y’all too bad

i been a poet, a writer, rappin’ was naturally next
breakin’ into an industry dominated by nappy necks
from the moment i touched a mic i done had they respect
now i’m tryna spread that influence, ain’t dyin’ wit no regrets
my talent is god-given, told me to use it wisely
bubble slowly and rock for generations like the isleys
take a shit on yo predecessors quality-wise
show the new generation how to give knowledge disguises
‘cause my beats hard, you can be smart and still manage
to keep yo g card i promise, i made the honor roll
and the v squad, now i’m just tryna deliver
these rhymes packed with fire like it’s hawkeye quiver
n i’m an innovator, rockin the black wit’ the gold, no laker
makin’ the league wit the street in mind, tryna be rafer
i skipped the life full of being drunk on the weekend
doc-mented my life, tryna pull every seat in
hopin’ y’all can see in, got plenty to say
people claimin’ the art dead, this millennium laced
straight fire comin’ outta my brain, all i need is ‘bout 8
bars for stakin’ my claim, 8 for makin’ my name
think we close, we ain’t based in the same
zip code, it’s a lot of people i rated insane
in my younger days and i look at ‘em now like they competition
sk!lls matchin’ the p-ssion put me in perfect position
y’all too mad



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