letra de pen god (“rap god” music cover) - ndrew sadykov
[intro]
look, i was gonna just sit and talk about your problems
but it seems to me (six minutes, six minutes)…
that i need to take this new chance
my soul’s blackening, i can feel it… (six minutes, ndrew, you’re on)
just a feeling i’ve got, like something’s about to blow…
can we stop this?
what do you mean we can’t?
i don’t want to take part in this… chaos
(you’re just what the fate ordered!)
[1st hook]
i’m beginning to feel like a rap god, rap god
all my people from the front to the back nod, back nod
now who thinks that i’m not serious
try to say me: “enough”
they say i write so much so call me: “pen god!”
[1st verse]
but for me to write like gpt it must be in my genes (jeans)
but i havе got a notebook in my back pocket
my hand writes so much and i can’t stop it
need a fat knot from that book profit
i’ll madе it a living, still k!lling off it
ever since english became my secret force with
which i need to cope and
treat myself like a silly comic book hero
but for me it’s not a riddle
(what’s about the finger?
it’s middle)
how to be honest
with audience
it’s my drug like for the alcoholics
this flippity-dippity book power
is about to attack
with this rappity track, packing some cash in the backpack
rap — cr-p? yap-yap, yackety-yack
and at the exact same time
i attempt these lyrical acrobat stunts
while i’m practicing that
i’ll still be able to rap better than a motherf-cking label
artist who forgot punchline attacks
you just realised i was ironic? now i’m not
how could i not blow? all i do is think about plot and hip-hop
feel my tip-top path
writers are having a rough time period?
here’s maxi-pad
it’s actually disastrously bad
for the wack
while i’m masterfully constructing this masterpiéce…
[2nd hook]
cause i’m beginning to feel like a pen god, pen god
all my people from the front to the back nod, back nod
now who thinks that i’m not serious
try to say me: “enough”
let me show you maintaining this sh-t ain’t that hard
everybody want the key and the secret to writing ability
that i have got…
[2nd verse]
well to be truth the blueprint’s
simple rage and youthful exuberance
everybody loves to reflect ‘bout what the truth is
did nothing but shoot for the moon since
bullies get taken to school with this music
‘cause i took my
written sh-t as miracle
not to cry
now i lead a new school full of students
me? i’m a product of logic, kanye, nas and marshall, doc dre, cordae
all these names i wanna thank and say “hey”
inspired enough to one day blow up and stay
to meet my teachers and induct them
into the motherf-cking lyrical hall of fame
while wack motherf-ckers forgot
the god who gave them a chance
to join the game
and i’ll never be inducted into
the alcohol hall of shame
all the abusers i blame
you d-cks think it’s so plane
till i walk a flock of flames
off a plank and
tell me little g-y looking boy what in the f-ck are you thinking?
little g-y-looking boy
so g-y i can barely say with a straight-face looking boy
you’re witnessing a mass occur (massacre)
like you’re watching a church-gathering
take place looking boy
“oy vey, that’s boy is a g-y?” — that’s all they say, looking boy
you get thumbs up, pat on the back
and “way to go” from you therapist, boy
hey, looking boy, what you say, looking boy?
i get a “h-ll yeah” from my gang, looking boy
i have worked for everything i have
have my life to enjoy
basically, boy, you’re never gonna be capable
to write with the same rage, looking boy, ‘cause…
[3rd hook]
i’m beginning to feel like a pen god, pen god
all my people from the front to the back nod, back nod
the way i’m lacing these rap-lyrics
call me tailor, tailor
indrans of this text game, though i haven’t got a trailer…
[3rd verse]
so you’ll be clone and i’ll be copied
you’re impotent, i’m omnipotent
let off, then i’m reloading
immediately with these lines i’m toting
and i should not be woken
i’m the walking rap
and i bite my writing hand
my soul’s floating
and i got your brain uploading
i’m out my rhyming noodle
i write text without searching themes
in google
i’m a frank man —
one day you’ll pinch yourself in the arm
and find that your dream becomes true, man (truman)
let be your honesty brutal
or it’ll be honestly futile
if you don’t utilise what you do though
for good not only once in a while
so i wanna make sure
somewhere in this chicken
i scratch, scribble and doodle
enough rhymes
maybe try help
get some people
through tough times
but i wanna keep a few
punchlines
just in case even if you
unsigned
writers are hungry
looking at me
like it’s lunchtime
and i know
there was a time
when i was a
king of the underground life
but i still write like i’m on my
translation competition grind
so i
crunch times
but sometimes
when you combine
appealing with the young age
of mine
you get too good
and here they come trying
hamper you like that
hard time
when i found
that want to be the number one
for my lil’ bro
now that fact you can’t deny
these lines can make an immortal
my door became a portal
can’t stuck in time warp from 2004
just ‘cause that time i wasn’t born though
you’re pointless like your curses
against my
cornrows
you write normal? f-ck being normal!
and i just brought a lyrical gun from the future
just to come and shoot ya
like when hyde made den cheney’s mad
but it’s no shame to be second in the greatest battle
man, oh man, this one should be shown
as a 24/7 on a cable channel
cause they both came to enrage
each other
that special day and said:
“hey, f-g, i’ma k!ll you!”
battle rap, make me do it again
lyrics coming at you with ferocious speed!
uuhh
samma-lamma-dumma
you’re assuming i’m a human?
feel no need in being superhuman
can be innovative
so my mind is made of rubber
anything you say
ricocheting of off me
and glue to you
lyrics devastating
more than ever scr-ping
how to give a f-cking audience
a feeling like it’s levitating
never fading
the haters will forever waiting
for my gaping
it’s no chance for them to be creative
cause i know how
to get them motivated
music made you elevating?
so it’s elevating music
oh, he’s too mainstream
that’s what they do when they get jealous
they confuse it
“your message is pop”, — ‘cause i found a h-lla way to fuse it
with shock
haters will knock
themselves
‘cause they don’t know how to write books like that
they don’t know what words to use
but if you really want — it occurs to you
it’s curtains
i’m inadvertently hurting you
how many blank pages i gotta murder to
prove that if you were half as nice as your words
you could sacrifice virgins too?!
uhhhh
school flunkie, pill junkie
but look at the accolades
these sk!lls brung me
full of myself, but still hungry
don’t bully myself
‘cause i make me do
what i put my mind to
while i’m
million leagues above you
ill when i speak in tongues
but still tongue in cheek
f-ck you!
my inner voice is asleep
while i’m driving a moped
taking the front seat
bumping “keanu reeves”
with no “guilty conscience”
and still there’s something
i can feel tugging and struggling
angels fight with devils
and here what they want from me
they’re asking me to eliminate
some of the critic hate
but if you take into the consideration
the bitter hatred i have
then you maybe a little more patient
and sympathetic
to the situation
and understand the discrimination?
but f-ck it! life’s handing your lemons?
make lemonade then!
and if i can’t write no more lyrics
there should be the song ending
don’t mistake me for prophet
but it’s only a profit
in the way i can share my thoughts right now
time to finish all the doubts
be a rap-king? think not
why be a rap-king?
if i can write like a god…
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