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w.l.a.k. - too easy lyrics

[hook: swoope]
i’m bored with this music
i’m bored with this music
this music ya’ll giving
it’s more to this music
it’s more to this music
than money and women
i don’t understand, i don’t understand why they talk about nothing
tell ’em we don’t feel that

[refrain: swoope]
it’d be too easy, to talk about nothing
to talk about nothing
it’d be too easy, to talk like i’m something
i’m ballin, i’m stuntin’
it’d be too easy, chasing the fame
playing the game
it’d be too easy, but tell ’em we don’t feel that
no no tell ’em we don’t feel them

[hook: swoope]
i’m bored with this music
i’m bored with this music
this music ya’ll giving
it’s more to this music
it’s more to this music
than money and women
i thought i’m a sinner, but i don’t understand
tell ’em we don’t feel that

[verse 1: swoope]
faith said they do it for the money
dre said they do it for the stuntin’
‘crae said they talking about nuthin’
yeah they’re wasting this music on nuthin’
nowadays, cats tryin’ change up
ain’t on the same stuff, trying to get their change up
rapper or christian, fact or fiction
still screaming jesus don’t matter what you name us
everybody on the label go hard
we ain’t clouded by your label, no stars
we ain’t the cats with no bars
listen to the songs, you’ll see what i’m saying
so nah, so far, i’m feeling like i’m mozart
in between ye and ‘crae on the flow chart
anything less than the truth is a faux pas
i stay down with my (oof) like four paws
they’re drawing lines in the sand like you have to pick a side
are you chicken?
well, ima ride with the clan
so i guess i’ll take the fries, and the biscuit
uh, you think i’m talking about ya’ll?
i think not, drunk if you think i waste bars to take shots
facts only, everything real in my raps homie
anything less would be too easy

[refrain: swoope]
to talk about nothing
to talk about nothing
it’d be too easy, to talk like i’m something
i’m ballin, i’m stuntin’
it’d be too easy, chasing the fame
playing the game
it’d be too easy, but tell ’em we don’t feel that
no no tell ’em we don’t feel them

[verse 2: alex faith]
yeah, i’ve been feeling like, time is running out
everyone around me want me to give or dumb it down
i’m sick of all these rappers
i ain’t feeling what y’all putting out
my circle’s getting smaller but everybody is cooking now
dre, corey, swoope, it’s a m-ssacre
never compromise for the m-sses bruh
before and after us, it’s still christ the king
living that life before these lights and screens
before these mics and fiends, before the hype and screams
the fans and concerts, the height of dreams
i’ve been about this life for a while
by his grace dodging snakes that wanna hate but smile in my face
so, one time for the homies, hold up
one time for the phonies
everybody is not hip to the difference between you and me
but we know (we know)
we l.a.k that’s a four letter word
it’s a life, a position, a noun and a verb
but that’s over your head like ceiling fans
you’re living to low, we don’t feel that fam
it’s too easy, only make a song to get paid
rap about a life you don’t live, you a lame
but how i am living is not marketable
i’m hearing your mouth but i don’t care what you say

[verse 3: dre murray]
they’ve got the trap so loud
and the bars turned down
and i can’t hear nothing but the b-ss
forget the cap and a gown
heard you’re back to the crown
now the homie locked up for the base
keys open doors, right to your cell
dawgs in the street store out sniffing out your trail
place them where they can’t quite grab so it’s h-ll
screaming that it ain’t that bad with a tale, oh well
pharoah said they ain’t no water in the land huh?
spitting lines like how he stacking bands huh?
then they asking us when we gon’ turn
it don’t matter, we earn, we just sticking to the plan huh
we live as kings, boy it’s not just a logo
i’m repping this life without lights on that photo
so please do the math and just read me my total
me rapping that nonsense, that there is a no no, too easy

[verse 4: corey paul]
i get [?]
talking [?]
top grade, fur b-ss and the dope county
gavel like an anvil clutch ya boy without a handle
really live what’s on the news, i pray to god he change the channel
panama with my pride on camera
kicking like a canon whip, k!ll ‘em with the amateur
dope boy finna acting up, but really hard to back it up
unless you’re cool with cooking poison
and right before they bag it up
a rapper just tapping into the spirit of agatha
couple novellas bout k!lling it then they pack it up
but have you seen these junkies
sitting on the porch of my granny’s house that’s my uncle (i said)
have you seen suicide?
my daddy hung from a rope in the summertime
now vivid pictures, running through my mind
in this 24 frame, when i try to shoot them down
gotta eat, waiting on a plate
they gonna come out that dumpster when the rents paid
reel beef when them boys send them boys where you stay
put a cross on your head like ash wednesday
this boy like a preacher on easter
like jesus my lasiks i pray that the see ya
cause everybody pac til that beamer get shot
body drop, then gotta hand the ashes to afeni, easy

- w l a k lyrics

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