B.O.B - Mission Statement lyrics
rate me[Intro:]
Let me assert my firm belief
That the only thing that we have to fear is
Fear itself!
Cut the check, man (check man)
Cut the check, man!
Bobby!
Ladies and gentlemen,
Gentlemen, consider this moment the Genesis (Genesis)
This is the part where you flip the fuck out as you feel the adrenaline
I'm only here to give,
I'm only here to give you the experience!
Oh what an experience,
they probably should've prescribed me with ritalin
But fuck it, rumor has it A.D.H.D wasn't real, it was just an experiment
All of these years I was taught to be ignorant
Trying to figure out why I'm so different.
Modern day life is set up like a pyramid
I was sleep, man I woke from the ignorance.
Wake up now, trying to sell me a membership
Shitting on niggas so much that I'm hemorrhaging
Your bitch on my couch auditioning.
She wants me to buy her some booty shots
But I can't fix a flat, I'm not Michelin.
My mind's overflowing with images
So many thoughts I can never remember them
But I never forget to go straight to the source
I learned to cut out all the middle men.
I got no patience for your basics
Time is dwindling, you just ain't interesting
No strangers inside of the organization
That shit is strictly prohibited (what?)
The music industry is sickening (what?)
But no one will ever admit this shit (oh no!)
These niggas ain't making the numbers they make
And shit, half of these niggas pretending!
Yo, fuck a hater,
Fuck a genre (fuck it!)
No genre
You can't box it in
They try to box me in but they couldn't box me in
They try to describe me,
But they just still can't describe me to this day
You'll never be able to describe me
No genre, no genre, no genre
The label!
Why do I bother
spending time gathering thoughts up?
The Buddha go a little bit harder.
I'm like Jesus on a microphone
I make vodka from water (shots, shots, shots)
Kinda like Jimmy Carter, just a little bit darker.
The rap game just got a little bit smaller
I just lay down the facts, so lay down and stay down or stay off my sack.
Niggas say I ain't dope, need to lay off the crack
Busting like a motherfucking AR with lasers.
Drop a fucking bomb on the radar like Adolph was back
I blow a state straight off the map
Hundred round ricochet when them stray rounds come back
Got to go and get this paper, I can't hang out the check.
Where the, where the, where the players at?
Bring the paper back
Running through the racks like a motherfucking pyromaniac
I need a lady that ain't a basic rat, with a crazy gat
With a decent booty hanging out her back.
Give that thing a smack like a angry black (bow)
But before I smash gotta wear a safety hat
Bobby, where the Mac? Bobby, where the Mac?
The inside got the flow, had to bring it back.
Now motherfuckers acting conscious and shit
Just cause you're dressed like a hippie
Attending the Coachella concert and shit, aha!
Don't make you no different than me
Cause I happen to like making money and shit, ok!
I'm just being honest, I never make promises
I just pay homage and shit
No genre, you bitch
Bandz!
Thanks to Jane Doe for correcting these lyrics
