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letra de kids in america - oliver francis

yo
lyrically i blast back when i smash tracks
wipe the sweat from on my brow
but turn my polo cap back
like ash ketchum
i take a beast and i wreck em’
they talkin down imma check em’
ain’t touchin my beat selection na
been in the hyperbolic time chamber training up
a&r’s been blowin’ up my phone but i’ve been hangin up
we off the sh-ts
purple weed i call it prince
catch me dripping in some tommy hilfiger or some ralph lauren
my mental state is professor charles xavier
they can hardly lift the mic
but for me that sh-t is weightless
i was destined for greatness because i put in the work
this for the kids in they bedroom who just don’t know what they worth, yo
who the f-ck is oliver?
b-tch you ain’t heard of him?
he’ll stick the microphone through a rapper like shuriken
we four deep in the camry
i flew my team to miami
that’s word to grandpa diddy
i realize that i can never trade this quiet life of hedonism
how do these rappers sleep at night with the way they be living?
teaching kids that poppin’ percocets and f-ckin’ b-tches
all there is to do in the short amount of time that we’re given
so while i’m here i gots to spread the wisdom
the game f-cked up
that paper turn you to a victim
don’t let these motherf-ckers diminish your character
kim wilde we the kids in america
got lemon pepper on my polo sweater
i’m coming for whoever
ain’t n-body do it better
sippin’ out a coconut and chillin’ on the sand
prolly rollin’ through my city while i’m thumbing through a band
man these artificial limbs
they got me stronger than ever
i tear you rappers to shreds if i wanted whenever
ripped knees on my polo jeans
flannels like its ’93
smoking good weed up on the beach under the palm trees
graffiti streets
broken gl-ss and concrete
why you lil rappers always gots to beef with og’s?
now we on the top floor
that’s the presidential suite
nikes on my feet
that made my cypher complete
sometimes i rap cause i love it
sometimes i rap for the h-ll of it
personality split like mr.robot and elliot
my mic check leave you wet like a tec
tryna keep the reaper off me
crucifix on my neck
that’s word to weezy f baby
been a few years since the kid did wwaavvyy
bullet-proof gl-ss on a g-cl-ss ‘cedes
imma do me til the day i push daisies
shouts go out to ber
shouts go out to aahj
shouts go out to every kid who worked a sh-tty job
y’all can keep the gold chains
p-ssy hop in the whip
look me in my eyes and tell me i ain’t body this sh-t
b-tch

- oliver francis

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