Luyện nghe bài hát Dontbenobodysbitch

In search of something
I'm sick and tired of fuck niggas favors
I'm sick and of chasing down designer labels
So I said "fuck it, start up my own label"
tryna please you, I just ain't capable
I'm sick and tired of tryna make relatable
So don't ask me why my eyes low
'Cause madafucka i do this with my eyes closed

1]
How many hits? How many pills do I gotta to think of a hit?
To be at the top, how much cotton do I gotta
How M's do I gotta get? Don't make any sense
Ain't that a bitch? Ain't I
Sinse I was a git, fuck with my
I was a stubborn kid, I grew up stuttering, hoping someone on top would discover me
How many do I gotta-?
How many publicists I gotta hire to check all this fuckery? should cover this, I've had enough of this
I can't make up this shit, I am on too substances
How many streams? How many themes? How many awards? How rings?
Fuck with dreams

Who I ride
not no clown-ass niggas, call you sideshows
And we, and we know that your IG be lies, ho
I'mma the shit that I sow

2]
I find it odd, niggas stay saying "don't a thot"
But you wifing thots behind the dignified
Your life's in knots, my might appear more aligned a notch, but I'm on suicidal watch
(Hello? you ever wanna die a lot)
Well, commence the chords, B.o.B you sound rich and
I say just a bunch of piles of shit with pores
spend all day eating, then shit some more
I don't kids, I'm convinced, I'm sure
out like my dick's a sword
Eight billion people, 90% of poor, but fuck it, what's a few more
Let's get more shit to afford
summers on [?]
You on, you on, you on my
A dog, a dog, a dog only holler when hit
That means something I said must got under your
me, how real can I get?
I said fuck the feds, the twelve, the cia and
'Cause they can't do

Who I ride
niggas, call you sideshows
Your IG be lies, ho
I'mma reap the shit I sow

In search of something