Themselves - You Ain’t It lyrics
[Themselves - You Ain’t It lyrics]
I'm saying, you ain't it you ain't it
I'm saying i'm saying, you ain't it
You ain't it, I'm saying
If you paint it on long
And rhyme to not wrong the fawn of all song
A pawned goner to strong
I would not call you poet
If you tryharditapart
In a guarded bombardment
Of self martyr and garbage
I will not call you poet i’d call you farmer
You will not be called by me poet
These stricken suckas is soft often
And offed goners got in the cough of no cause
Caught in a cauphin the size
Of a men’s medium their pen’s bleeding them
Of anything half-life
All might or believe and then
They’re thrown to the stone sewn dead
Seed of a leader in them
And the rest is all froze
Poser and everything opposite sober
Choked joke broker of the
Lowest common eroder
Of all that’s good in the oven of men
And the evil’s they choose through
So I’m a catch you in the wind w or w
Out crew and do rap words to you
Farmer… i push it previous and meanted at
The pink pit In your pensive
And throw it brick to the
Hid glass of frontmen with
No hand cuffs near this mouth or a
Doubt in the gum of the
Gold that I spun from the wick
Of a winded and abandoned me
Abandoned like education in major markets
My sort of artist
Doesn’t think like a banker
Write like a carcass dim like the farthest
Light sources you poor portrait's
Of breathed corpses with out torches
You only omen like horsehead
And then in your likeness we’re force fed
Gallons of brag, brief
And retreat over beats re-introducing
Advertising and the un-amazing flame
With no heat king brief of think least
His word worth discrete
Scope of effect, petit
And you’re weak weak weak
You call it pain i call it painted on
That's too much pink
I'm saying it's too much
(You don't feel it)
I'm saying, you ain't it
I call it painted on
Are you capable of brave or able only in
The stable claw of
Something corporation sized all babel eyed
And vacuum lived… the cattle’s pride
Bitch in the belly of buy
Terrible merch puppet of major
Label tom foolery
Or the easy indie emo born calm cool and free
Who ruin preach in perpetuity
Recycling your michael, Dylan
Lennon and oshea’s
Role-play is a thing of the simple
Jesters beggars and minstrels
You juice it a thimble for fans
Yet gulp gold down by the goblet
On some copshit decidedly toxic
Bill whipped giving godless, a bad name
Another coat of grey on the shame colossus
We got this, above us, beside us, and of us
A rotting, I hate this fake it and
Make it, till caked in maggot racket
You play with it's magnet, say it your
Famished and managed, a half day
In a bad way and the anthem of pay
It’s tragic
You’re putting the mirror and smoke
Back in the magic
This is your act right in verse fire
You finna fry on a purse pyre
Unadmired by the ever in lasting
What is it in song that you’re casting
Any efforts in last straw grasping
Or a weakling unmasking
An expensively lit, exhibition in quit
About as two bit
As it isn’t backed by the rich
So was it you or the script
One never should a
Would a trusted their hearts with
You're weak, cous'
Muthafucka you ain't it
(Weak MCs make me kill kill kill kill)
(Now that's what it's all about, yeah)
I'm saying i'm saying, you ain't it
You ain't it, I'm saying
If you paint it on long
And rhyme to not wrong the fawn of all song
A pawned goner to strong
I would not call you poet
If you tryharditapart
In a guarded bombardment
Of self martyr and garbage
I will not call you poet i’d call you farmer
You will not be called by me poet
These stricken suckas is soft often
And offed goners got in the cough of no cause
Caught in a cauphin the size
Of a men’s medium their pen’s bleeding them
Of anything half-life
All might or believe and then
They’re thrown to the stone sewn dead
Seed of a leader in them
And the rest is all froze
Poser and everything opposite sober
Choked joke broker of the
Lowest common eroder
Of all that’s good in the oven of men
And the evil’s they choose through
So I’m a catch you in the wind w or w
Out crew and do rap words to you
Farmer… i push it previous and meanted at
The pink pit In your pensive
And throw it brick to the
Hid glass of frontmen with
No hand cuffs near this mouth or a
Doubt in the gum of the
Gold that I spun from the wick
Of a winded and abandoned me
Abandoned like education in major markets
My sort of artist
Doesn’t think like a banker
Write like a carcass dim like the farthest
Light sources you poor portrait's
Of breathed corpses with out torches
You only omen like horsehead
And then in your likeness we’re force fed
Gallons of brag, brief
And retreat over beats re-introducing
Advertising and the un-amazing flame
With no heat king brief of think least
His word worth discrete
Scope of effect, petit
And you’re weak weak weak
You call it pain i call it painted on
That's too much pink
I'm saying it's too much
(You don't feel it)
I'm saying, you ain't it
I call it painted on
Are you capable of brave or able only in
The stable claw of
Something corporation sized all babel eyed
And vacuum lived… the cattle’s pride
Bitch in the belly of buy
Terrible merch puppet of major
Label tom foolery
Or the easy indie emo born calm cool and free
Who ruin preach in perpetuity
Recycling your michael, Dylan
Lennon and oshea’s
Role-play is a thing of the simple
Jesters beggars and minstrels
You juice it a thimble for fans
Yet gulp gold down by the goblet
On some copshit decidedly toxic
Bill whipped giving godless, a bad name
Another coat of grey on the shame colossus
We got this, above us, beside us, and of us
A rotting, I hate this fake it and
Make it, till caked in maggot racket
You play with it's magnet, say it your
Famished and managed, a half day
In a bad way and the anthem of pay
It’s tragic
You’re putting the mirror and smoke
Back in the magic
This is your act right in verse fire
You finna fry on a purse pyre
Unadmired by the ever in lasting
What is it in song that you’re casting
Any efforts in last straw grasping
Or a weakling unmasking
An expensively lit, exhibition in quit
About as two bit
As it isn’t backed by the rich
So was it you or the script
One never should a
Would a trusted their hearts with
You're weak, cous'
Muthafucka you ain't it
(Weak MCs make me kill kill kill kill)
(Now that's what it's all about, yeah)