Saba - Everybody's Something lyrics

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Saba - Everybody's Something lyrics

(Verse 1) Whats good good? And what's good evil? And what's good gangstas? And what's good people? And whys God's phone die every time that I call on Him? If his son had a Twitter wonder if I would follow him Swallow them synonyms like cinnamon Cinnabon Keep all them sentiments down to a minimum Studious Gluteus Maxim models is sending him Pics of they genitalia tallied up ten of em I slurped too many pain-k**s, downing em off a lot I got a lot off days but it ain't often that I'm off the clock Ya'know I mean? I got the Chicago Blues We invented rock before the Stones got through sponsored links We just aiming back cause the cops shot you Buck buck bang bang, yelling "f** Fox News!" Booyaka buckle up, mothaf** ops too Ain't no knuckling up em young cause it just not cool (Bridge) Nice to see you Father New Year Middle finger Uncle Samuel Shooting d**h and waving dice And hitting stains on birthday candles I know somebody, somebody loves my a** Cause they help me beat my demons a** (Hook: Chance & BJ the Chicago Kid) x3 Everybody's somebody's everything I know you are Nobody's nothing That's right (Verse 2) Right? IGH I used to tell hoes I was dark light or off white But I'd fight if a n***a said that I talk white And both my parents was black But they saw it fit that I talk right And my draws here but my heart And head stayed in the clouds like a lost kite But gravity had me up in a submission hold Like I'm dancing with the Devil with two left feet and I'm pigeon toed In two small point ballet shoes with a missing sole And two missing toes But it's love like Cupid kissing a mistletoe (Bridge) Nice to see you Father New Year Middle finger Uncle Samuel Shooting d**h and waving dice And hitting stains on birthday candles I know somebody, somebody loves my a** Cause they help me beat my demons a** (Verse 3: Saba) Like Ca**ius ducking the draft and now the fight is over The type that love from a distance not the type that towed her Spent three days on the rap, trash it and type it over With babies on the block under arms like fighting odors Coppers and quotas Hold ya head like 2Pac had taught Honestly they are on a come up With better chances tobogganing in the f**ing summer Concoctions for the bad days and a condom for the good ones All odds against we tryna get lucky Doper than lucky You ain't that happy that's only a tuggy Like Satan masturbating sh** come hot But y'all still love me ugh How father time of dead be Maybe I'm adopted That'll explain why all of my sh** been so timeless IGH (Hook: Chance & BJ the Chicago Kid) x3 Everybody's somebody's everything I know you are Nobody's nothing That's right