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• Artiste: Noname
• Titre: Song 31
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All my everything is for you All my terrible sense of humor and critical interviews All my pearly gated redemption and casual afternoons All this money you know I'm making Like racin' against the moon, but I sell pain for profit, and I feel prophet watchin' Everything is for everything, rhymin' with causality Ain't no labels that's backing me, but my tickets be sellin' out And I'm steady raising my fee, that's another hit from my fee 110 degrees in the desert heat With a bubble coat, turtleneck underneath Rolling up on the beach Smokin a holy weed, laughing, baking My homie Tee hopin' joking is all we need When I sell pain for profit Now I binge watch Atlanta No more TV representation from a Kelsey Grammer Let's toast to niggas getting checks who work behind the camera Somebody raise they man up Truth be told, I wear my heart on my sleeve Watch you sit it on the shelf Now my body got cold I swear we'll never leave Had to do it for myself, to find my praise Go get your weapon Real recognize real, feelin' like real proof Real buddy-buddy after the trip to the Cancun Million dollar baby, bet you can get to the hands, too Got a pack of wolves ready to damage a full moon The only bitch actually rapping, it look like me now Or meow, kitty just reimagined a freestyle DM flooded, niggas still waitin' for me to reach out We shadow boxing government hopin' they put the leash down I sell pain for profit not propaganda I know cancers origins link to Santa I know Santa's origins link to money Mass production of cattle, a slaughtering for the yummy These niggas is clever, the prison no better The ghost of the living We ain't talkin' about Reggie on Christmas, we almost forget him What's a casket to a holding cell if a nigga ain't in it Only reason why I'm steady faded and still independent Truth be told, I wear my heart on my sleeve Watch you sit it on the shelf Now my body got cold I swear we'll never leave Had to do it for myself, to find my praise Go get your weapon