ignorance is bliss
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Why you keep on trying to make some shit
You die before you make a hit
Die to holes from neck to hip
We don't fuck with nazis bitch
How can you not see you're in a room that's lacking talent
It's a basement filled with trash who are also fascist
People see an ounce of creativity
They take a gram and call themselves an artist with ability
I deal in pounds so I see the cracks
That's not genre, what's that?
That's racist emo bitches afraid to call their music black
Oh shit
What's this
Same type beats with the same lyrics
No wonder their genre and dead rap turn out synonymous
These copycats can't do this with any sort of competence
These guys aren't artists they're closer to colonists
These people have no image they want in the picture
These people have no vision they follow the scripture
These people make vanilla try to sell you mixture
They don't want to sell you art want to sell out richer
Sniped a style only wrote about blades
Sucked the soul and treat it like games
Independent but you act the same
Till pen and paper start callin their
Name me a reason to give you the views
When I can see hundred of yous
Wanna be rock and forget about blues
Till Franklin can get you a cruise
Rile you up cause I need competition
Cause I cannot stand how you keep it persistent
Write and record and you're lacking ambition
You're keeping it real like the Angel magician
Annoying as fuck that you hold the position
You only are in it to get that commission
If people below you then they're opposition
Disgusts me to call you musician
You think I envy when you tell me bout your splits
I'm only jealous I know ignorance is bliss