letra de wil'out - smg
[verse 1]
i’ve been tryna make you listen
i’ve been screaming from the back
drowned out by sha-kla-klacks
if these lame n-ggas talkin’ sh-t, i must be spittin’ be p-ss
this ain’t rap, i ain’t hip-hop
i’m a tera
up from every single bit (byte)
now i’m stepping to the front
and throwing joints to pull this weed
bang my chest and bare my t–th
cue the music, grabbing utters;
ya’ll gon’ have to play me off
i’m offering change to these bums
awfully plagued with this sc-m
thoughtlessly thinking that acting hood is how cookies will come from crumbs
so they been shakin’ out the bag. say it’s swag when they sag
saying f-ck him at the funeral, “n-gga, none of us have dads
now i’m tryna let you listen
now i’m tryna a set you free
and imma shout
[hook]
wil’out…
wil’out…
wil’out…
wil’out, wil’out
now i’m tryna do me, so you can count that i’ll…
wil’out!..
wil’out!…
wil’out!…
wil’out
we gon’ bang and break ’em out
until they crack and start to yell
and then we scream
and then they shout,.
and we wil-out!
[verse 2]
you’ve been molded
told a lie you can’t understand because music and
television sold it
u.o.e.n.o. it
we are the future
you are a poet
the few roosters set to dispel the rumors where losers make blind movers and imperial troopers
in the real world, you exist
not like this
dressed in nines and empty rhymes
drop the accent
pull your waist
put up your left fist
it’s a whole new era
don’t be scared of the past
we’ve come to bliss
but, that ignorance is sh-t
you’re unique
but can’t control when they give you no handlebars
riding on thin ice and gl-ss shards
stop to eat a low-carb poptart, p-ssin’ on a cop car
where’s admiral akbar?
it’s a trap, n-gga!
you really think these b-tches applauding you when it clap, n-gga?
they’re lost too
like lions and tigers in woods, i just couldn’t bare it
pied piper’s fee is long overdue
n-gga-rich n-ggas buying luxuries, but can’t afford the tariff
they skipped out like ferris
we’ll not be embarr-ssed
go head, call the sheriff!
i’m wil’in!
breaking out of this cage in nicholas rage
stomping on bars
knock ’em down, i’m shooting mars
it’s divorce, man. start filin’
promise we’ll run it, gotta tune up and get our miles in
[hook]
[verse 3]
i’m a g*nius; man, i ain’t gotta fake sh-t
stay ahead of these n-ggas; ain’t gotta rake sh-t
smart middle cl-ss black kid, ain’t gotta take sh-t
but i make this
to make sure any motherf-cker keeping watch have to take shifts
now these have-nots have plots and schemes
swear fools blind like we fightin’ wit kareem
amazing race, you be chilling under with phil
imma end up on the top, cause i always do me
aaahhh!
but they think they special: self-centered minds
if you ask me, stoop kid’s kinda stupid
take it to the streets, dude
’bout that time…
’bout that time…
’bout that time…
’bout that time…
no talk, just wilin’!
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