Rittz - LAF lyrics

[Hook:] These motherf**ers make me laugh They L-A-F, they Lame As f** Look at how they dress They L-A-F, they Lame As f** Listen how they rap They L-A-F, they Lame As f** Trying to say they fresh, trying to say they tough You ain't ever been nobody, you just make sh** up You lame as f** [Verse 1:] You ain't spittin' and ya music don't jam Try to study me like I'm a student exam Hard for me to take a lyricist serious Especially a dude in sweatpants wearing unis** Vans What would you expect then, made a song 'f** Swag' Ain't nobody say sh**, I guess they afraid if They get outta line I'm bout to have to grave Dig a great big hole, k** em even when you late b**h A.K.A Mr. Make-Them-Wanna-Rewrite I guess I'm the one they wanna be like These guys get a feature from me study me on every record Then they switch they whole style up Homie I can see right, through you You ain't ever used to chop like that Now you talk about your girl and your struggle Trying to get it, how you did a lot of soft And you pissed off at your boss You ain't used to have the same 9 to 5 I had Need to find ya own lane, you and I might crash Get in mine, hope you had a good time, (I'm back) Rap game looking like Revenge of the Nerds And ya pants and ya shirt too tight, is that plaid? We ain't seeing eye to eye like I have an eye patch No cla**, havin' a motherf**er you can die You gon' wish you had a life raft My style is hijacked, did I k** him, my bad [Hook] [Verse 2:] With ya lame a** sock showin', stop trollin' Goin' online posin' with ya Glock showin' You ain't ever shot no one, stop lyin' you are not blowin' Trying to copy me, you thinking I would not notice co*kroaches couldn't see me like they got some glaucoma Comment onto my photos by the way that I look I bet that I could get ya lady to f** and s** dick, quicker than you You said the two of you was in love You lame as f** and I bet that you the type of dude to come up And tell me that I look familiar, knowin' damn well ya Seen my videos and know my name and it will k** ya Not a B-Lane so instead I gotta tell ya Washed up rappers acting like I owe em something When I needed them before I made it, they would never help ya Lame a** homies wanna party at my crib So they can drink up all my liquor they don’t ever buy they-self none They say they recording, you ain’t got songs Tryna say you preforming, you ain’t got fans But it’s hard to ignore 'em, lame motherf**er Probably like, foamposites, always rockin’ team Jordans Lame a** b**hes insecure and destorted She tried shave her head on some Ca**ie sh** Now she thinkin’ she gorgeous Never kiss her boyfriend, she f**ing everybody, lil nasty b**h A lot of people in my city try to say that they relate to me But still so many in Atlanta don’t appreciate a thing I did or even heard of me Its almost like they trained to be a slave to what they playin’ on the radio They proceed to put me in a cage because my record label Strange They need to listen, if they did they probably end up devastated We don’t play, we put the music business in a Strangeulation Other record labels lame to me, these motherf**ers L-A-F Actin’ hard, never take a day off (they L-A-F) Still rappin’, sh**'ll never pay off (they L-A-F) Still trappin’ acting like a straight boss (they L-A-F) Get arrested, they confess, and they decide to play ball (they L-A-F) They be actin’ like we cooler than we are If I'm at you doin’ music, don’t be stupid, it's a job You are not a friend of mine, just a dude I never call Bombing on 'em, Shock & Awe [Hook]