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letra de stfu - tom macdonald

[verse 1]
i woke up late again, check, my phone’s at eight percent
opened up my facebook page, there’s people hatin’, pray for them
half my fans are angry at me, don’t know how to make it end
everything was cool back before friday morning came and went
dropped a brand new song, they said my content was too racy
and everyone who listened to the lyrics had to take offense
d-mn, that was my favorite, man, can y’all just wait a minute?
everybody step right up, come get your allegations in
what did i say? what did i do?
how is my music affectin’ the youth?
how are y’all triggered by somethin’ i said in a song?
how am i screwin’ wit’ you?
too many cuss words?
oh, i said “gucci” and “louis” and now you’re all b-tt-hurt?
too slow, rap fast ’til my lungs hurt?
not enough punchlines in one verse?
i can’t win, my mind spins
when i do me, they say “do him”
when i go hard, they say “dude, chill”
when i go soft, they say “go in”
when i go way too controversial, say i do it for the cl!cks
and when i make some normal music, they say “dude, i missed the hits”

[chorus]
(shut the f-ck up)
shut the f-ck up, i do not care
(shut the f-ck up)
shut the f-ck up, you ain’t me
(shut the f-ck up)
shut the f-ck up, you ain’t no expert
(shut the f-ck up)
shut the f-ck up, shut the f-ck up
shut the f-ck up
[verse 2]
shut up, light a cigarette, i ain’t checked my twitter yet
i don’t know who i am ’til i read it on the internet
ugly racist, bigot rapper, newest song is ignorant
probably pays for all his fans, his views are insignificant
switch over to instagram, check my “-n-lytics” tab
apparently, my latest song is p-ssin’ off a million fans
don’t know how to get ’em back, i’d like another billboard plaque
but i can’t let hurt feelings somehow influence my influence
what do y’all want? what did i say?
tell me my music has ruined your day
accuse me of triggerin’ people on purpose
and tell me i do it so i can get paid
too many songs about race? not enough songs about love?
can you calm down and explain?
would you really rather that i rapped about xanax and shootin’ some guns?
i can’t win, i’m trapped in
boxes inside my fans’ heads
i give them everything i’ve got, they only want what i can’t give
i can’t live life like this
i’ve been livin’ on the edge
i might just show them where that is and push them all off of that cliff

[chorus]
(shut the f-ck up)
shut the f-ck up, i do not care
(shut the f-ck up)
shut the f-ck up, you ain’t me
(shut the f-ck up)
shut the f-ck up, you ain’t no expert
(shut the f-ck up)
shut the f-ck up, shut the f-ck up
shut the f-ck up
[verse 3]
i should really go to bed, but i check my phone instead
guess i need to know what people creepin’ on my socials said
total overload of stress, my video was trollin’ them
seems to be the part of this that they ignore and no one gets
i keep scrollin’ past profiles that told me i’m trash
the whole world mad at me thanks to my phone, i hold it in my hand
make some toast with moldy bread, crack open a soda can
prepare to let ’em know i lost control of thoughts inside my head
i don’t care if you hate what i’m makin’ next
i ain’t panderin’, i don’t take requests
i don’t fake it for you just to make a check
this isn’t marketing, this is who i am
oh, you gon’ throw out my records?
don’t like my music if it’s not offensive?
claim that the new me is losin’ directions?
say that the old me is twenty times better? i can’t win
i lose every time, or i spit the truth and they say that it’s lies
or they say that i’m lazy and i should just try more
then when i try, i’m a tryhard
either way, i’m p-ssin’ someone off
either way, they sayin’ tom fell off
any way that i can cut the cake f-cks with someone’s day, man, i’m done wit’ y’all

- tom macdonald

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