JEFF DEE - That's Gangsta (from MULTIPLICATION the Mixtape) | Текст песни

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• JEFF DEE
• That's Gangsta (from MULTIPLICATION the Mixtape)

[Verse 1]

Fuck you, yes you over there
That’s the only way I can tell you that
To shy to approach the playa by myself
Your all fresh shiny looks may even damage my health

Don’t call me a rapper, please, I’m not like that
Have you ever heard me saying things like I got alla that
I’m not a hip-hop artist, nor hipster sidekick
Kick me in the side outta this game, feel seasick

Please, I beg you, please, don’t tell me your story,
About your glory, your whories, cash and life with no worries
Wait a sec homie, you even escaped a death row
Bitch tell me something I don’t know

[Chorus]

Say you killed a man again
That’s gangsta
But you never had a gun
That’s gangsta
You say you more than just a man
That’s gangsta
I just heard you killed a bum
Real ass gangsta

[Verse 2]

I see things that you don’t see
Maybe cuz I see things differently
Frequently I come up with my thoughts decently
You don’t even notice me from your dad’s Bentley

Tonight’s the time to say I’m not the same
I won’t say that, cuz nobody knows my name
What a shame! These gangstas don’t even notice me
There’s no way these hardflow rappers gon’ skip a beat

My songs are bullshit, your mission is complete
You proved yourself right, proved I’m a freak
Good job boy but there’s nothing you’ll achieve
Burn your dictionary – you seen what I did?

[Chorus]

Talkin stuff you never meant
That’s gangsta
Pretending you don’t have a dad
That’s gangsta
Loving only damn self
That’s gangsta
Just pretend you never heard that, gangsta

[Verse 3]

It’s impossible to place 2 names
Without someone being first
But it’s like a wrestling match
Being prerehearsed

I do things inverse, like in them trash shows
If you suddenly get better you may get worse
Keep rapping bout your sorrows, hard life home borough
You predictable like that line I just thrown up

Your music is turned up, weed burned up,
You think you coolest in this world – just your head holed up
Wait, wait, wait, hold up, here comes that freak, G
Thinks he can rap without wearing baggy jeans

[…Talkin’ to myself…]

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