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letra de the robin, the eagle - lé real

aight this had to be done
rapped half as hard and got “farther”
that’s why i call you my son
i am the oracle
here to say that you ain’t the one
nor second nor third
you ain’t keep up in this run
4 years and ya followers only at 1k
that’s the number i can get on one track in one day
like an old gaming console man you don’t get no play
that’s why you set ya page to where ya numbers never display
they was barely showing anyway
so it ain’t much to hide
like an a-cup covering up her chest
sleeping dog and ya whining done woke me up from my rest
i gotta
pay this hurt puppy attention i guess
pay this hurt puppy attention i guess
[]
you done got my attention
eager fan on twitter; yeah you been craving a mention
but unlike you i ain’t no twitter fingers
i barely even tweet
i’m fly as feathers but i’d rather say what’s real on beat
think you can step to the king
peasant take a seat
good thing no bets were placed cuz i would take all of ya wheat
you hot as ice
i doubt that you can even spell “heat”
yet you out here claimin’ i don’t want smoke
boy i’m bob marley
cheech & chong at a sing-a-long
dodgin’ shots from the weak burners that you bring along
n0body bump my tunes
you couldn’t be more wrong
stop projecting boy i got more hits than a bong
that was weak but you are too, it’s compensation
you mad square
that’s prolly why you chose to block me
funny how a coward dips when he starts a situation
a fear of heights, you wasn’t build for escalation
but i know you been waitin’
and i know you been watchin’
triple beam on the table
you been weighing the option
and i know you been hatin’
but still movin’ with caution
guess seeing my name made you step outta line
well i’m here to put you back in
thought i did back then
man i hate leaving a job unfinished
honestly this song could make your fanbase diminish
if you had one to speak of
no hate here i only speak love
the tough type
i ain’t gon’ lie i really hope you get enough hype
off of this so you ain’t never gotta favorite
your own tracks, create ya own stats
my art is martial, discipline, that be what i’m ‘bout
this ain’t no beef
i’m just puttin’ my son in time-out

- le real

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