Amateurs
Ettrick Shepherd
GENRE
[Hook]
I am doing this to prove myself
I’m so sick and tired of copping shots below the belt
Got these amateurs coming up to me and they try to tell
Me that they’re gonna do what I do but I doubt they could do it well
[Verse 1]
I’m mopping you up, you’re dust, I’m done with broom
Utterly consumed in my tunes but I just stepped out now I’m coming for you
I was never the one to be running the show but one day I will be and none will oppose
You get on my track and I’m running you over
I have no life, don’t fuck with a loner
You’ve been on my temper, you’rе cutting it close
I got two lungs full of smoke, to me it’s likе butter on toast
I am not someone to fucking approach
Could’ve flicked my tongue and broke dozens of bones
Of enemies, beware, there’s something to quote
You wannabe motherfuckers are jokes
Nothing is clouding my vision - the cause and the reason that I am so down to earth
Committed a sufficient amount of work
Or perhaps I should count on perks of luck - which ever I encounter first
Create that wave that I’ll ride and gather that crowd to surf
I found a purpose for the nouns and verbs
I am the opposite of an oblivious, stupid, incompetent novelist
Holdin’ my lack of confidence, but I’m still writing despite not dropping it
It’s in my heart and it’s part of me now, I thank that for starting me out
The origin of my artistry, sounds, grim but fuck joy I’d rather be down
What would I trade for the wealth? If I had to I'd Hannah Baker myself
I’m having baby and I’m gonna raise it - I’m planning on naming it hell
I’m giving you smoke, it stems from my anger bubbling up like you’re blazing an L
The shit’s like a drug, it’s gripping as fuck and fits like a glove
Got dirty money on my hands - that’s fine cash
I’m shredder when it comes to the paper and that’s why they’re calling me white trash
If you tried write raps or make beats that slap like mine slap
That’d be like going to Wet N Wild with an ice axe
[Hook]
I am doing this to prove myself
I’m so sick and tired of copping shots below the belt
Got these amateurs coming up to me and they try to tell
Me that they’re gonna do what I do but I doubt they could do it well
[Verse 2]
Take this as a warning shot
If you call yourself a rapper but don’t rap and just like to talk a lot
Or have drunken cyphers ’til somebody calls the cops
You’re making me sick, I need you all to stop
My beats are a little different so they might say that I’m falling off
Currently if you can spit than you’re the shit
I’m not the one forming the rules but let the record show that I was spitting before it was cool
And I’m bored of you fools hitting me up thinking that you can make
Music right off the bat without spending endless days at your pad
Trying to think of shit but not thinking of shit and that gets you into thinking you’re shit
Equipped with the wit to be ripping rappers had the passion and put it into action
That’s how i’m able to make a song in a week and don’t have to rely on
Inspiration to come over me to get off my ass, pen to pad every night
I spit this shit to a T, quit believing or thinking you’ll be
Sicker than me - it’s a dream, not reality, there’s difference between
You haven’t the got the hunger, claiming that you’re bars strike and they’re
Hard - right? They’re as soft as the thunder what a farcry
Create don’t hate but will they ever do that
No way José, they’d rather kick back and play those games
Saying that they can throw together a song but especially speaking like they’re
On my level just gets to me cos I’ve practiced for a tenth of a century
On Downers I proved yet again there’s nothing that I can’t do with the pen
Put in effort that only few will commend but even if none do - I’m true to the end
Just because I can do it - doesn’t mean that you’re able to
You gotta stay glued to the page then maybe you could become amazing too
[Hook]
I am doing this to prove myself
I’m so sick and tired of copping shots below the belt
Got these amateurs coming up to me and they try to tell
Me that they’re gonna do what I do but I doubt they could do it well
I am doing this to prove myself
I’m so sick and tired of copping shots below the belt
Got these amateurs coming up to me and they try to tell
Me that they’re gonna do what I do but I doubt they could do it well
[Verse 1]
I’m mopping you up, you’re dust, I’m done with broom
Utterly consumed in my tunes but I just stepped out now I’m coming for you
I was never the one to be running the show but one day I will be and none will oppose
You get on my track and I’m running you over
I have no life, don’t fuck with a loner
You’ve been on my temper, you’rе cutting it close
I got two lungs full of smoke, to me it’s likе butter on toast
I am not someone to fucking approach
Could’ve flicked my tongue and broke dozens of bones
Of enemies, beware, there’s something to quote
You wannabe motherfuckers are jokes
Nothing is clouding my vision - the cause and the reason that I am so down to earth
Committed a sufficient amount of work
Or perhaps I should count on perks of luck - which ever I encounter first
Create that wave that I’ll ride and gather that crowd to surf
I found a purpose for the nouns and verbs
I am the opposite of an oblivious, stupid, incompetent novelist
Holdin’ my lack of confidence, but I’m still writing despite not dropping it
It’s in my heart and it’s part of me now, I thank that for starting me out
The origin of my artistry, sounds, grim but fuck joy I’d rather be down
What would I trade for the wealth? If I had to I'd Hannah Baker myself
I’m having baby and I’m gonna raise it - I’m planning on naming it hell
I’m giving you smoke, it stems from my anger bubbling up like you’re blazing an L
The shit’s like a drug, it’s gripping as fuck and fits like a glove
Got dirty money on my hands - that’s fine cash
I’m shredder when it comes to the paper and that’s why they’re calling me white trash
If you tried write raps or make beats that slap like mine slap
That’d be like going to Wet N Wild with an ice axe
[Hook]
I am doing this to prove myself
I’m so sick and tired of copping shots below the belt
Got these amateurs coming up to me and they try to tell
Me that they’re gonna do what I do but I doubt they could do it well
[Verse 2]
Take this as a warning shot
If you call yourself a rapper but don’t rap and just like to talk a lot
Or have drunken cyphers ’til somebody calls the cops
You’re making me sick, I need you all to stop
My beats are a little different so they might say that I’m falling off
Currently if you can spit than you’re the shit
I’m not the one forming the rules but let the record show that I was spitting before it was cool
And I’m bored of you fools hitting me up thinking that you can make
Music right off the bat without spending endless days at your pad
Trying to think of shit but not thinking of shit and that gets you into thinking you’re shit
Equipped with the wit to be ripping rappers had the passion and put it into action
That’s how i’m able to make a song in a week and don’t have to rely on
Inspiration to come over me to get off my ass, pen to pad every night
I spit this shit to a T, quit believing or thinking you’ll be
Sicker than me - it’s a dream, not reality, there’s difference between
You haven’t the got the hunger, claiming that you’re bars strike and they’re
Hard - right? They’re as soft as the thunder what a farcry
Create don’t hate but will they ever do that
No way José, they’d rather kick back and play those games
Saying that they can throw together a song but especially speaking like they’re
On my level just gets to me cos I’ve practiced for a tenth of a century
On Downers I proved yet again there’s nothing that I can’t do with the pen
Put in effort that only few will commend but even if none do - I’m true to the end
Just because I can do it - doesn’t mean that you’re able to
You gotta stay glued to the page then maybe you could become amazing too
[Hook]
I am doing this to prove myself
I’m so sick and tired of copping shots below the belt
Got these amateurs coming up to me and they try to tell
Me that they’re gonna do what I do but I doubt they could do it well
Related songs
No comments:
Post a Comment