Your native language

عربي

Arabic

عربي

简体中文

Chinese

简体中文

Nederlands

Dutch

Nederlands

Français

French

Français

Deutsch

German

Deutsch

Italiano

Italian

Italiano

日本語

Japanese

日本語

한국인

Korean

한국인

Polski

Polish

Polski

Português

Portuguese

Português

Română

Romanian

Română

Русский

Russian

Русский

Español

Spanish

Español

Türk

Turkish

Türk

Українська

Ukrainian

Українська
User Avatar

Sound


Interface


Difficulty level


Accent



interface language

en

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Cookie policy   |   Support   |   FAQ
1
register / login
Lyrkit

donate

5$

Lyrkit

donate

10$

Lyrkit

donate

20$

Lyrkit

And/Or support me in social. networks:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Cal Scruby

ERS

 

ERS

(album: SCRUBBY - 2013)


It's interesting
Do you remember why you're here?

They told me it's ERS
And I can't rap about anything but
Weed, Cars, Sex
And if I talk about love
They going to show love less
And if I talk about money
Then they say I'm up next
So I'm down for the cause, for the blogs, and the media
Fake style, fake rhymes, those are the ingredients
Who could be the greediest?
(What rhymes with greediest?)
Superficial life style, civil disobedience
And I don't even say shit
Try to find a content its buried under the beat and laying in a coffin
Carry over the beef and stir it in a pot
With a little confidence and call that a concoction
And give it to the fans
I can feed em' outa' hand
They don't care about the words
Cause they only wana' dance
But they memorize em' anyway
Recite em' in a trance
Making dollars off the music
Without even making sense
I don't really understand
I'm just waist deep in the game
Knuckle deep in the money
And balls deep in the fame
But to keep it one-hundred
I got this shit in the bank
And I'm just getting paid
I don't give a shit what I say
It takes thirty-four minutes just to write and record
Fifteen for the verse and nineteen for the chorus
I mislead with the words, you think I can afford
A Benz when I'm in a 94 Honda Accord
Of course my debut tape was hotter than my new tape
Cause I don't really give a shit
It only took a few days
Its cold shit, new age
Epitome a two face
Like officer I'm innocent
I just made the kool-aid
So you can charge me with a tooth ache
I sugar coated everything
It's looking like a Soufflé
I say I'm original and everything subliminal
But really I just look a little different
Like it's DVD to Blu-Ray
But I got delivery
I just need a due date
My rhymes over head like newly wed bouquets
I should probably double knot my shoelace
I'm tripping like a mothafucka' living out a suitcase
Wait, I'm feeling better now
Over the weather now
And under the radar
And I don't need no A&R
I don't need no day job
I just keep on killin em'
Feeling better than good
A right click synonym
A you won't see Eminiem
Yela, Mac, Asher
Easy, Riff, Kels
Stop naming white rappers
Race just ain't a factor you backwards bastards
And If I really wanted I could make em' all Caspers

done

Did you add all the unfamiliar words from this song?