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letra de i want - wafle

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i’m changing craft, from odd sh-t to conscious rap
i’ll keep on spitting this stupid sh-t until my ego cap

a narcissistic, egotistical maniac
talking about the sh-t that i want, list it all inside the rap

i want n-ggas to look at me and call me funny
maybe get a grammy, and sh-t, maybe make a little money

i’m like skee-lo with all of this sh-t i’m wishin
i could be a lil taller, a baller, i don’t need no b-tches
i want them trophies and gold stacked all up in the sky
so i could sit atop my throne at all them airplane heights

i want a crown so all these n-ggas will call me king
and on ya mama, i will not wish for another f-ckin thing

this ain’t an intro, y’all mothaf-ckers know who i am
i’m nothin new, i am a rapper, same old black man

i wanna be recognized for all my f-ckin glory
i wanna be the artist played on all your boyfriends stories

i want a trophy for all of the music that i drop
i want a store for all the shoes i made for you to cop

mama mia, these n-ggas always be tryin me
testin me on all my bars, these d-ckriders are haunting me

this ain’t no high school musical, i might go to college
not the average black man just cause i have a little knowledge

i’m on top of the world, it’s only 10 a.m
all these rappers be spittin without a single f-ckin plan

it hurts me in my soul, it hurts me in my heart
i guess as the new token, it’s time i learned to play my part
i want more fame, i wanna be known on all the streets
i want a shoe deal, i wanna be known for these s-tier beats

i want that kendrick love, i want to take that long hiatus
i want to take off half a decade and still be the greatest

i wanna do some features and be told i’m saving songs
i wanna stand at the top, on the roof, and not be kong

i want a company, that stuff like pglang
i want my own clothing brand, that sh-t that like golfw-ng

i’m ever changing, still evolvin as i write this rap
i feel inspired, got potential i have yet to tap

i’m leavin this on a high note, get the best of me
i’m gonna be chillin in bimmers, sittin next to t

maybe i’ll be sittin at home or climbin some trees
maybe i’m just writin these poems inside this honda g

- wafle

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