Fuck you, fu-u-u-u-u-uck, fu*kfu*k you Fu-u-u-u-u-uck you, fu*kfu*k you (Yep, now now) Fu-u-u-u-u-uck you, fu*kfu*k you (Nah nah, no)
I ain't no activist, I'm the protagonist I don't co-captain it, I fly solo like one cup in the cabinet The cab is the cabinet, they trust me at landing it They call me the advocate, they'll slide like the abacus Boy meets world, everybody been savages I just want to really know how much a drill shooter averages I'm not no nice guy I'm just a good guy The bad guys should really stay on my good side I smell my roses younger than the good die The Illuminati couldnÂt see me with they good eye They think they Heath Ledger scary, they just Jack Nichols I'm a sign to my city like the Bat-Signal Young chosen one, golden boy, De La Hoya It ain't too many me's, rest in peace to Verne Troyer I was younger then I seemed as a kid I mean my G17 18 in the head I mean I'm only 25 but I'm Motown 25 Bet I get a statue in my hometown when I die And Rahm you done I'm expectin' resignation An open investigation on all of these paid vacations for murderers
Fuck you, oh o-o-oh Fuck you, fu*k you Fu-u-u-u-u-uck you, fu*k you-ou-ou Fu-fu-fu-fu fu, fu-fu-fu-fu-fu-fu Fuck you, oh o-o-oh Fuck you, fu*k you Fu-u-u-u-u-uck you, fu*k you-ou-ou Fu-fu-fu-fu fu, fu-fu-fu-fu-fu-fu Fuck you, fu-u-u-u-u-uck, fu*k fu*k you Fu-u-u-u-u-uck, fu*kfu*k you Fu-u-u-u-u-uck, fu*kfu*k you
I don't get no paper I gotta sign at the bottom Still in my bag like the fries at the bottom And I can't do nothing right, they gon' always be at me I missed a Crain's interview, they tried leaking my addy I donate to the schools next, they call me a deadbeat daddy But Sun-Times gettin' that Rauner business I got a hit-list so long I don't know how to finish I bought the Chicagoist just to run you racist bitches out of business Speaking of racist, fu*kyour microaggressions I'll make you fix your words like a typo suggestion Pat me on the back too hard and Pat'll ask for your job And in unrelated news, someone'll beat your ass at your job I'm the real deal Who taught all these rappers that a big deal's not a big deal? Inherited the earth, popped them wheelies on a big wheel My enemy lives in his mother's basement That's why my videos don't got no Baphomet product placement I'm a real one The honey is sweet, the apple's bitter They'll try to convince you you stronger without your woman than when you with her And tell you they kidding while Twitter trashing your litter I know the devil's a liar I know that players is quitters, I heard you hire your hitters I know the higher the bidder, that mean the less on return So I just hire a sitter I'm not no boss nigga, I'm a soldier Kingdom builder, man somebody shoulda told ya Fuck you
Fuck you, fu-u-u-u-u-uck, fu*kfu*k you Fu-u-u-u-u-uck, fu*kfu*k you Fu-u-u-u-u-uck, fu*kfu*k you
Compositores: Eric Bishop (Foxx Jamie), Chancelor Johnathan Bennett (Chance), Peter I Wilkins (Peter Cottontale) ECAD: Obra #37781828