Psyck - Drama

Oh no you don't really wanna
Put that on my momma
Imma get all of these commas
Y'all just want the drama
Oh no you don't really wanna
Put that on my momma
Imma get all of these commas
Y'all just want the drama
You don't really wanna
You don't really wanna
You don't really wanna
You don't really wanna

I've been patiently waiting
In case my creating get super ratings
And I start taking off
But opportunities wasted
Couldn't see it need LASIK
Was sorely mistaken
I'm breaking it down to basics to face it
Pacing myself in Acics
Retracing my steps
But quiet is kept
You'll never learn my methods
Shot on Stephen
Smith and Wesson
Son of reverend
Fucked around and missed my blessing
But that's a lesson
Mic testing
Wrote the new testament is my estimate
Writing extraterrestrial
Selection is extra dope
Future star that's celestial
Rocking festivals while I'm grabbing my testicles
Effortless
Excellent
Etched in him
Heaven sent
But hell bent in my ways
Paved roads through pain
Paint pics with perfect pitch
Ain't shit
I'm sinking ships
If left a drift
I'm at the tip of wits
I spit acid
Too much dip on chip
I'm pissed but never pissed on
No Detroit I'm adroit with the mic
Got no choice but to write
Lift every voice to the light
Like a Sunday morning
Storming
Moved to soon like Norman

Oh no you don't really wanna
Put that on my momma
Imma get all of these commas
Y'all just want the drama
Oh no you don't really wanna
Put that on my momma
Imma get all of these commas
Y'all just want the drama
You don't really wanna
You don't really wanna
You don't really wanna
You don't really wanna

Give me a chance no Bennett
Set the record straight like Guinness
I ain't ever had no limits
I ain't ever had to mimic
So give me a minute
Imma be driving round city
Windows all tinted
I don't really need the attention
Never cease to believe and amaze
Got a way with the beats
They my peace
Need a piece of the cake
And I want my say
If I don't get that then imma go cray
See through traffic nigga has Waze
Hair didn't have any waves
It never behaved
That was like back 6th grade
Now a nigga raised on the centigrade
Bars just might incinerate
Innovate
In a take
In a cage
Might break out
Run right back if the shit go south
Speak in time better watch my mouth
Don't chase girls and I don't chase clout
Still too proud
Still too loud
Ain't a nigga round here know what I'm about
Know my route
Know my doubt
Getting too angry might blackout
Breathe in breathe out
Nigga you fishy smell like trout
Out my house
Raps outhouse
Shit get quiet like church mouse
How you think you can stand in my path
Is what you should ask
You don't really wanna do that
Meet my wrath
This your last chance
Or get back handed
Like crash landing
That's bad planning
On your part
Ain't seen nothing yet I just started

Written by:
Albert Harris III

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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