B.o.B - Dontbenobodysbitch lyrics
[B.o.B - Dontbenobodysbitch lyrics]
In search of something greater
I'm sick and tired of
Doing fuck niggas favors
I'm sick and tired of
Chasing down designer labels
So I said "fuck it
Imma start up my own label"
'Cause tryna please, you
I just ain't capable i'm sick and tired of
Tryna make myself relatable
So please, don't ask me why my eyes low
'Cause madafucka i could do this
With my eyes closed
How many hit's? How many pills do I
Gotta take to think of a hit?
To be at the top
How much cotton do I gotta pick?
How many M's do I gotta
Get? Don't make any sense
Ain't that a bitch? Ain't I, Ain't I legit?
Since I was a g, fuck with my shit
I was a stubborn kid, I grew up stuttering
Hoping that someone on top would discover me
How many publicists do I gotta-?
How many publicists I gotta hire to juggle
This fuckery? Someone should cover this
I've had enough of this
I can't make up this shit
I am on too many substances
How many streams? How many themes? How
Many awards? How many rings?
Fuck with these dreams
Who I ride for?
Definitely not no clown-ass niggas
Call you sideshows and we, and we know that
Your IG be telling lies, hoe
I'mma reap the shit that I sow
I find it odd
Niggas stay saying "don't wife a thot"
But, you wifing thots behind
The dignified facade
Your life's in knots, my life might
Appear more aligned a notch
But I'm on suicidal watch
(Hello? you ever just wanna die a lot)
Well, commence the chords
BoB you sound rich and bored
I say we're just a bunch of
Piles of shit with pores
That spend all day eating
Then shit some more
I don't want kids, I'm convinced, I'm sure
Pull out like my dick's a sword
Eight billion people, 90% of them's
Poor, but fuck it, what's a few more
Let's even get more shit to afford
Seventy summers and you're a cripple corps
You on, you on, you on my dick
A dog, a dog, a dog only holler when it's hit
That means something I said must
Got under your skin
Tell me, how real can I get?
I said fuck the feds, the twelve
The CIA it ain't shit
'Cause they can't do shit
Who I ride for?
Clown-ass niggas, call you sideshows
Your IG be telling lies, hoe
I'mma reap the shit that I sow
In search of something greater
I'm sick and tired of
Doing fuck niggas favors
I'm sick and tired of
Chasing down designer labels
So I said "fuck it
Imma start up my own label"
'Cause tryna please, you
I just ain't capable i'm sick and tired of
Tryna make myself relatable
So please, don't ask me why my eyes low
'Cause madafucka i could do this
With my eyes closed
How many hit's? How many pills do I
Gotta take to think of a hit?
To be at the top
How much cotton do I gotta pick?
How many M's do I gotta
Get? Don't make any sense
Ain't that a bitch? Ain't I, Ain't I legit?
Since I was a g, fuck with my shit
I was a stubborn kid, I grew up stuttering
Hoping that someone on top would discover me
How many publicists do I gotta-?
How many publicists I gotta hire to juggle
This fuckery? Someone should cover this
I've had enough of this
I can't make up this shit
I am on too many substances
How many streams? How many themes? How
Many awards? How many rings?
Fuck with these dreams
Who I ride for?
Definitely not no clown-ass niggas
Call you sideshows and we, and we know that
Your IG be telling lies, hoe
I'mma reap the shit that I sow
I find it odd
Niggas stay saying "don't wife a thot"
But, you wifing thots behind
The dignified facade
Your life's in knots, my life might
Appear more aligned a notch
But I'm on suicidal watch
(Hello? you ever just wanna die a lot)
Well, commence the chords
BoB you sound rich and bored
I say we're just a bunch of
Piles of shit with pores
That spend all day eating
Then shit some more
I don't want kids, I'm convinced, I'm sure
Pull out like my dick's a sword
Eight billion people, 90% of them's
Poor, but fuck it, what's a few more
Let's even get more shit to afford
Seventy summers and you're a cripple corps
You on, you on, you on my dick
A dog, a dog, a dog only holler when it's hit
That means something I said must
Got under your skin
Tell me, how real can I get?
I said fuck the feds, the twelve
The CIA it ain't shit
'Cause they can't do shit
Who I ride for?
Clown-ass niggas, call you sideshows
Your IG be telling lies, hoe
I'mma reap the shit that I sow
In search of something greater