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letra de rapper of the year - luh tyler

[intro]
yeah
ayy
shh, shh, shh
yeah, yeah, ayy
n-gga

[chorus]
i ain’t never wrote a song, no, i don’t need no pad or pen
they say i’m rapper of the year, i got them n-ggas mad again
b-tch, the grind don’t ever stop, every day we gettin’ it in
n-ggas love to rap ’bout opps, i’m finna tell ’em bout them bands
every time i hit the road, i come back with at least a ten
if you wake up tryna get some dough, then you know what i’m sayin’
they be hatin’ on the kid like hoes, them n-ggas really fans
man, this sh-t i just made from this show can’t fit inside my pants

[verse 1]
early mornin’, woke up to a check, just make me do my dance
jump on the mic and go dumb on the beat, that sh-t don’t make no sense
i want that bread, but y’all can keep the beef, that sh-t don’t make no bands
i’m in the booth, i’m in here droppin’ heat, like b-tch, go get the fan
hold on, let me throw my shades on, now i’m in that mode
he weren’t tryna get no money early, now that boy too old
why these haters worry ’bout the kid, b-tch go touch your nose
when they see me go and drop that pendant, i might make it snow
see the kid done turned into a star, it’s my time to shine
n-gga, we ain’t even get not sleep, we been too busy on the grind
i go crazy on the beat, they be like “where you get your lines”
my b-tch bad, i love the way she look at me, she know she fine
[chorus]
i ain’t never wrote a song, no, i don’t need no pad or pen
they say i’m rapper of the year, i got them n-ggas mad again
b-tch, the grind don’t ever stop, every day we gettin’ it in
n-ggas love to rap ’bout opps, i’m finna tell ’em bout them bands
every time i hit the road, i come back with at least a ten
if you wake up tryna get some dough, then you know what i’m sayin’
they be hatin’ on the kid like hoes, them n-ggas really fans
man, this sh-t i just made from this show can’t fit inside my pants

[verse 2]
i feel like i’m heaven sent, but b-tch, i gotta give ’em h-ll
all them b-tches that ain’t let me hit back then, they on my trail
n-ggas tryna come around because this cake, b-tch, i can tell
n-gga, we put gas up in the sky, that’s mary jane you smell (that’s that gas)

[outro]
yeah
shh, shh, skee

- luh tyler

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