Chance The Rapper - The Wirter lyrics
[Chance The Rapper - The Wirter lyrics]
People try to come at me and like
On some like, I only write slow songs
And I only writechurch and
How many of y'all are messing
With me with a pen, period?
I'm a writer, probably as good as Elton John
But whats writing good for if
It ain't helping moms?
I'm tryna feed Japan while
Seeing sights of Lebanon
And wiping away tears of girls
That's getting felted on
I'm tryna get my felt pen on
But the block is hot
My hands is questioning if I'm bach or not
If I'm 2Pac or nonexistent
To these juggernauts
But, I'm a architect an astronaut an argonaut
So hey you, get off my couch
You don't know me sta out my mouth
But, I'm a writer you can quote it out loud
A false poet get my dough and I'm out
But here's an eighth of
Shrooms for your earlobe a little rap
A little bit of Wu Tang
Mixed with some Henry David Thoreau
A little ponder theory you can
Ponder on your pillow
But this is for the day that your dad dies
But for some reason all you
Hearing is sad sighs
You searchin' for nostalgia but sad
And you can't cry so you check your iPod in
Search for some bad vibes
From that rap guy, who raps over sad vibes
I wrote it in an hour dawg
Don't know what your dad's like
He probably was a great dad
He's probably in paradise
You want deeply in heartbreak and
Sadly I can't write, nothing
This is for those who wrote suicide notes
And all the hipster girls that
Was super fly dope
You looking at her nose what
You do besides coke
You looking at her palms what
You do besides dope
Nothing, life is but a supersized note
I open up my mind like suicide door
And grab a pimp cane and a superfly coat
Have they bobbing they heads to
Something stupid I wrote i hope
On some like, I only write slow songs
And I only writechurch and
How many of y'all are messing
With me with a pen, period?
I'm a writer, probably as good as Elton John
But whats writing good for if
It ain't helping moms?
I'm tryna feed Japan while
Seeing sights of Lebanon
And wiping away tears of girls
That's getting felted on
I'm tryna get my felt pen on
But the block is hot
My hands is questioning if I'm bach or not
If I'm 2Pac or nonexistent
To these juggernauts
But, I'm a architect an astronaut an argonaut
So hey you, get off my couch
You don't know me sta out my mouth
But, I'm a writer you can quote it out loud
A false poet get my dough and I'm out
But here's an eighth of
Shrooms for your earlobe a little rap
A little bit of Wu Tang
Mixed with some Henry David Thoreau
A little ponder theory you can
Ponder on your pillow
But this is for the day that your dad dies
But for some reason all you
Hearing is sad sighs
You searchin' for nostalgia but sad
And you can't cry so you check your iPod in
Search for some bad vibes
From that rap guy, who raps over sad vibes
I wrote it in an hour dawg
Don't know what your dad's like
He probably was a great dad
He's probably in paradise
You want deeply in heartbreak and
Sadly I can't write, nothing
This is for those who wrote suicide notes
And all the hipster girls that
Was super fly dope
You looking at her nose what
You do besides coke
You looking at her palms what
You do besides dope
Nothing, life is but a supersized note
I open up my mind like suicide door
And grab a pimp cane and a superfly coat
Have they bobbing they heads to
Something stupid I wrote i hope