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j.r. writer - goat lyrics

[verse 1 – j.r. writer]
i’m the greatest of all time
n-gga, ask around — i’ve been great for a long time
on grind, i be amazing, i’m off mines
you ain’t gotta p-ss the crown, i’m taking what’s all mines
who don’t shine? my wristw-tch make the chicks hot
a lil’ head in the car — that’s a whip-wop
then tell her kick rocks, thinking she gon’ get guap
ain’t got enough for the train, i tell the b-tch, hop
this is real hip-hop, what the kid drop
you couldn’t slow the dog down at a pit stop
i play like ‘melo, but i keep a big shot
shoot you while you pushing your work — that’s a sling shot
i’m already king, i’ve chin-checked the ring
you waiting on the right pitch, you don’t never swing
mask, black gloves, all-black everything
black mag, black snub, floormat, everything
you’ll respect me then, would you, shouldn’t you
i’m sick of you n-ggas talking on what you wouldn’t do
i mean, look at you — i make it hard to look at you
come through and shake the whole block down — i’m shook of who?
i’m live-er than that, hotter than that
i leave the whole strip red, no prada to match
i body a track, bottle the crack
these n-ggas act like i woke up and forgot how to rap
i’m back

[verse 2 – c-ssidy]
hi haters; i keep getting high, haters
i’m grown, no chaser, i’m high as a skyscr-per
homes, you at home with your mom — i own acres
i own so much land, man, i’m my own neighbor
you a beggar; you need a loan, a favor
i get cash, you just mad, you got the vapors
a lot of n-ggas wish they was cas, but can’t be me
my diamonds probably make you go blind, you can’t see me
cause my diamonds shining like the finger on e.t
you on a bus, i’m in a truck with three tv’s
i dropped three cd’s, but i’m just getting started
my new album coming out — it’s ’bout to get r-t-rded
sh-t! pardon my french, motherf-cker
but i’m hustling, got it jumping like vince, motherf-cker
yeah, the boy in the zone
about to show his -ss like the artist formerly known as prince, motherf-cker
and i’m about to convince motherf-ckers
that i got more bars than at&t and them sprint motherf-ckers
go ahead with that nonsense, motherf-cker
cause you said you make it rain but can’t even make it rinse, motherf-cker
you never fought a homicide or attempts, motherf-cker
you jokes could get smoked like incense, motherf-cker
gee i’m hung, but i ain’t get lynched, motherf-cker
that’s why i walk with a limp, motherf-cker
i’m a pimp, motherf-cker

- j r writer lyrics

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