Quality - Laundry Week lyrics

I kicked the year off wit Hot 9 But still y'all be actin like y'all blind The best on the stage and the crowds mine But everyones mentioned besides I Those the kind odds that find that odd Ain't spot y'all when it was my time Y'all gon tick me off til I blow Til I blow like a time bomb Always throwing shade, always throwin shade, but y'all the reason I got shine Always throwin shade, always throwin shade, Oh y'all the reason I'm hot huh? Nah y'all the reason I don't come outside I don't know how to polly wit These clown politics who down wit gossipin I am now unfollowin, so please save your sorry sorrows and apologies Im the ham wit the collard greens Food for your soul, you gotta eat I'm sure you fools know of Qu'ality It'll be smart to acknowledge me Besides the squad, I got God wit me So I don't need y'all honestly And nah this ain't how it gotta be But y'all done forced the beast outta me Since I left I see nothin different Still payin to sell a bunch of tickets Still on flyers with 100 spitters Still on stage with 100 n***as Still the same names at every show Still the same lames that led the show And them same ones, claim the day ones but switch like bi s**ual They'll be back around Picture me back in down My brain is like a montage, of metaphors, similes and a pack of nouns And I roll wit a pack of hounds That'll stomp you out KAPPA style And even though that's not my style They don't take kindly to half you clowns They see me as the next best rapper out They see me bank straight cashin out They see me as the one that can cast em out Of the streets or the halfway house We gon' eat Ima pa** it out And then the next one pa** it down And then the next one pa** it down And then the next one, And then the next one, and the next one pa** around So you you know when pack in town One hand wash the other Both hands wash the face Can't fine me I'm too hard to trace Can't copy I'm too hard to trace I'm so Brooklyn but too Harlem wait Im smooth Harlem Mase wit 2Pac and Jay Worked hard to get on a new broader stage But they don't make none of of these new artist wait You could be booked at SOBs by and SOB Don't feel no ways, plenty people done it please don't let it get so deep Unless the shoe fits Then little homie, thats your fault Protectin my brand, at all cost Don't a**ociate wit corn balls I'm goin way up all fall All Winter Spring and Summer too My stomach growling this what hunger do Let's fill these pockets wit the color blue I'm pissed, consider this the number 2 I give a MILF quick lovin too Socks still on I'm uncomfortable Call her Young M.A I make your mother OOOOUUUU!