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tabs - now yous can't leave lyrics

hahaha, whatup yall. taboo, bad karma, dead rabbits, nofs. and this is most definitely some fs. you know what i’m saying this is that drake sh-t. yea i said it, drake. that’s what you people wanna hear now a days is soft core sh-t. sick to my motherf-ckin stomach. f-ck it, enjoy the ride

you got some twisted logic, this ain’t hip-hop this is pop sh-t
you flamers look like you raided my little sisters closet
and like my sister, you got some sweet sixteens
that should, only be played at a sweet sixteen
that’s why i’m sickened to my stomach every time i hear a new song
i’m at my limit another minute of this gimmick, would be too long
you swore that you’re hot but you’re not even luke warm
heaven knows you couldn’t step into some soul without a shoe h-rn
you’re a disease in it’s true form, i think we need a doctor
cuz you catered your music, to 12 year old teeny boppers
i, need some vodka your songs are gonna make my head explode
surrounded by trash feel like i’m on a horders episode
no individuals, only unoriginal’s so i’m unimpressed
you looking for that broke mold well go hold your f-cking breath
what a mess i guess you’re the voice of our generation
cuz every word stated is regurgitated replication
i’d give a good god d-mn if you got the hood locked fam
you want us to take it lying down that’s something i could not stand
we need to change up, you wanna know why this game sucks
cuz you’re f-cking garbage a bunch of artists using the same paint brush
you don’t say much, these b-tch mc’s are gimmicky
took the like out your simile’s so i don’t like your simile’s
these flames get extinguished, so relinquish your kingship
in plain english, you can’t be king cuz you sing b-tch you ain’t distinguished, who you think you impressing
you got your spot from all that c-ck that’s lodged in your intestines
oh…my, i think i know why you’ve been stressing i’m my own man and you an invention of jim henson’s
you’re on some fs as if you didn’t know
i can’t take a man seriously when he dresses up in women’s clothes
this kid is slow ain’t got the testes to test me
like jada said you never learn “how to be a emcee”
you heartless f-cks belong in a garbage truck cuz you’re straight trash
whether it’s drake or weezy or baby or nicki with her fake -ss
i put my fist through your face cuz you disgrace the art form
i know crippled puppies that are far more hardcore than ya’ll four
and you should be ashamed of yourself
the way you immortalize and glorify the fame and the wealth
but, enough’s enough i am sick you’re f-cking up the vibe with it
and i blame the fans for being dumb enough to buy your sh-t
my words are fatal, so i’m able to burn up these fables
i’ll beat em with a technic 1200 that’s how i turn the tables
my, time is now every minute i own it
desensitize my sense of time so i live for the moment
i’m a, different opponent a rare breed i don’t air breath
everything is not what it appears you don’t know where them stairs lead
make these f-gs bleed when they trampled in a stampede
you shoulda left when you had the chance, but, now yous can’t leave…

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