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Adam Calhoun

Bastards

 

Bastards

(アルバム: Pressure - 2021)


Momma raised a gangster, Daddy wasn't there
Grandfather taught me how to work and make it out of here
The streets taught me how to be cold and don't care
And the country taught me how to hold my head with no fear

They better start shooting if they think that they gonna stop me
Pop smoke or Tupac me; I don't rock with bodyguards, I'm too cocky
Two glockys and this shotty knock your top off, you copy?
And all these white boys jocking me while they copy
Look, I'm mayonnaise white as fuck too
Throwing hand grenades out the side of my truck, like, "Fuck you!"
Can't you get your own style, own look?
Or you just going to be a clone and take everything out my whole book?
Just my presence is a blessing, you peasants need to invest
In heavy weapons instead of studio sessions
Yeah I hear you rapping, but I don't see progression
My résumé's impressive every second is perfection

Momma raised a gangster, Daddy wasn't there
Grandfather taught me how to work and make it out of here
The streets taught me how to be cold and don't care
And the country taught me how to hold my head with no fear

Momma raised a gangster
Momma raised a gangster
Momma raised a gangster
Momma raised a gangster

Knocking down the door with the street sweeper
This thing got in my hand is a meat cleaver
You can get shot or get cut in half
I'm cutting out a path with a chainsaw and a weeder
I know you don't think they fucking with me! Me either
I'm balling like I'm MJ riding 'til the tires bald the gas tank empty
Got another thing coming you think I'm friendly
I'm a giant like I'm 10 feet you dying if you tempt me
Motherfucker I'm saying, "Dying if you tempt me"
Ay, what the fuck is wrong with them? You ass like a thong in 'em
Dewrags, saggy pants don't mean you rap, killing all of 'em
They falling like it's Autumn, time for you to call an audible
I rap about way more than broads and expensive automobiles

Momma raised a gangster, Daddy wasn't there
Grandfather taught me how to work and make it out of here
The streets taught me how to be cold and don't care
And the country taught me how to hold my head with no fear

Momma raised a gangster
Momma raised a gangster
Momma raised a gangster
Momma raised a gangster

終わり

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