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stann smith - boom!bap lyrics

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[intro]
yeah
name’s smith
what up?
shoutouts to [?]
shoutouts to me and [?]
shoutouts to ya’ll

[verse]
yeah, i drive gyms like a mother quick to call her
fear my brother, never call a girl my lover
yeah, my names smith
screaming every king [?]
we almost famous, suited up
it’s some adidas, [?]
see me doing shows, magazines wanna intervene
always on the road or the streets cuz i do my thing
nappy headed fro, let it grow, stayin’ crisp clean
everybody love me can’t compare me to them dummies
i make my own money, you don’t even own your masters
your suck -ss label couldn’t get a show in [?]
market and gorilla, hip-hop instrumental builder
entrepreneur, i’m the black derek sivers
everybody love me so i’m climbing up the pillars
you divin’ in a pool and you ball, play billiards
i hustle in a pool or you a pool swimmer
you’ve never seen a que ball, you a pool sticker
i had an argument with a hipster
he said i should get a deal with a [?]
a deal with the risk of shady -ss [?]
then he told me to take his card
i looked him dead in his face and told him, “kiss my -ss”
what you think i went to college for, to get a job?
you the type to write rhymes to buy a different car
and another, resonate with fans so they doesn’t understand to be the heavyweight champ, uh
they buy my sh-t cuz they gon’ love it when they pop it in
and they buy your sh-t cuz they your friends, oh well
way too cheap to sleep inside a hotel on tour cuz shows might not go well
sleep in the back of the car or a motel
profit ain’t guaranteed, my love for it propels
me either when i’m havin’ slow sales, rappin’ like my predecessors boombap with no bells
i don’t drink or don’t smoke l’s
i’m not concerned with your wack -ss
heard you on your last mixtape, it was half–ss
heard you on your new mixtape, it wasn’t that bad
until you said, “[lego?] on the drop” and i just pushed stop
i’m not with the fads, miss the funk and the jazz with the turntable scratch and the [?]
levis and the black tee like booker
but gotta be a hip-hop t like pusha
illuminate the b-ss and the beat with the kick drum
in my kingdom
that’s why them rappers tryna jack it and they be mad cuz they see me on the come-up, yeah
they try to throw sh-t at my shows, took de la soul flow, i’m just a m-f-
sellin’ the whole show but i did it for dolo
no, i did it with my fam, every king has [?]
put them posters on the wall of them undergrad dorms
got my first encore a abigail now i can lounge cuz my name’s on the club bill
i don’t even drink liquor, but i got my cup filled
i know promoters, i booked it with the owner
so much secondhand smoking put me in a coma
i started feelin’ dizzy by the smell of the aroma
man, i started chokin’ cuz the smell was h-lla vulgar
so they kicked em out the club as drunk as coca-cola
man, i’m writin’ rhymes about the world and how i see it
these rappers writin’ lies about the girls they never be with
i can’t write a club song cuz i never party
i’m all about my business, when they reach me, then you call me
if i don’t answer leave a message or a text
and i’ll respond prolly’ to the number you request
i don’t think in music you can call yourself the best
cuz everybody brings somethin’ different from the next
and i’m bringing somethin’ fresh, yeah, i said i’m bringing something fresh, right, i said i’m bringing something fresh
yeah, i said i’m bringing something fresh and every king [?] and my name’s stann smith, yeah, i said they call me stan lee, yeah, mr. ever-ever-y

[outro]
[?] rap every king has [?], yeah
yeah, what up p3, what up kid?
every king over everything thing
you know the slang
keep the sayin’ till we dead [?] high in the sky for us until we under six feet deep, they gon’ scream “every”
and on that note
go back to playin’ modern warfare



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