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triz nathaniel - feckless kanye lyrics
first and foremost, f-ck you kanye for making me do this man
it’s just, you used to be like the ‘hood larry david man
now you all, you all george costanza man
i can’t stand ya man
you done sold out like every showtime for black panther man
lookin’ real unfamiliar to a real n-gga
ask jay, for real n-gga
see lyrically we supposed to represent
but he out here reppin’ for his motherf-ckin’ president
call this n-gga kelly anne kanye
or better yet spell kanye with three k’s
n-gga callin’ roseanne for the three way
i’m abc, i drop barrs all day
ye took ‘hov wisdom for granted, but i was sudying
he just sample n-ggas, i’m out here kid cudi-ing
course he singing ’bout his watch, b-tches love jewelry
well keep your cartier, i’ma roll with cardi b
so n-gga guap guap, get some chicken, guap guap, get some bread
i swear this n-gga must be out his cotton-pickin’ head
spittin’ royal horse sh-t, bojack-son (f-ck outta here)
but i made this whole joint on my man’s and them iphone
lookin’ real unfamiliar to a real n-gga
playin’ soccer in madrid, i’m so real n-gga (ha)
you got us in a pickle, what’s the dill n-gga?
type of cat talk too much, you garfield n-gga
chill n-gga, you ain’t even close to a g*nius (nope)
you ain’t cole, k-dot, you ain’t don cartagena (nope)
now go head, put triz on that list too
of the long line of n-ggas that’s better than you
ay watch me channel pun and bring a ton of lyricism back
or f-ck that i’ll just pack a mac in the back of the ac’
matter fact if you askin’ who this up in my sh-t?
well you can call me al, ’cause you gon’ know who i am dammit!
slammin’ ye like i was addicted to cocaine
or call me kimmy kardashian the way i be smashin’ him
wrote that verse after work on the bus ride home
then went and made this whole joint with a iphone
(black beatles!)
i’d like to see
ye underneath the sea, with me
hand on the trey octopus guardin’ him
for .38 straight days of this lyrical shade!
ye, you used to touch the youth like you was kevin sp-cey
but it’s the future, i’m the boss n-gga, mister sp-cely
see ye, every time i rhyme you just add another l
pull back the silver hammer to the max, well, see in you in h-ll!
rhymes colder than hoth but this ain’t sweater weather
got a target on your chest, best dress for beretta weather
tell me i ain’t in that pele pele peter pan
you just jelly ’cause i got me a sweeter summer jam
false prophets get they brains on the walls of the a-train
word ye, welcome to my dark twisted fantasy
badu style, you can call me tyrone
way i’m movin’ your whole world with only a phone
and imagine what i’d do to you if i had the samples you do
you like boo hoo, i be all na-na-na boo-boo!
we through with you, time for you to wave the white flag
here’s to kanye west, a toast to the douche bag
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