Hasty lyrics

[Intro]
What b*tch says he's going to be a f*cking rapper?
Are you kidding me?
That's how you're gonna f*cking support your family?
You don't got any subscribers on YouTube
Are you f*cking kidding me?
You have no subscribers
So how the f*ck you gonna support a family–
Hey, hey, hey, he has ten

[Verse]
I remember days at my grandma's house
Sleeping on the couch, whole fam on the ground
Dirty lil' b*tch in the back talk down
But her friend sent a pic with her ass all out
Got em' all mad, get a bag, you broke
I been off that, it's sad, you know?
Seen you on the gram, stand back, b*tch pose
I'm about to shoot a mag, click-clack, you vogue
Said you don't need a scrub, that's why you a stank hoe
I don't do the club, rather pull up to the bank, hoe
You won't get a crumb from me, pockets on that Panko
Shawty want the love, feeling up like it's the tank low
Lame hoe, better lay low
Looking like a peso, keeping it a bank note
Better take notes, I been all about a bank roll
Check the payroll, I'm an a-hole, but I ain't broke
Lately I been like, "f*ck you, pay me"
Hate me all you want, b*tch, go crazy
Ladies all on my di*k, too hasty
Save me, all of them want my baby
Daily motherf*ckers talk fugazi, shady
Talk sh*t? b*tch, 180
Face me, nothing you say gon' phase me
Wake me when somebody don't betray me
Long time comin' and I'm better than I ever been
And I got my team on my back like a letterman
They ain't wanna let him in
Left me in the rain with the mic
Something like I was a weatherman
Running up the paper like the pacer
Torn ripped Chuck Taylors, the fits tailored
Treat a b*tch like Tracer, never chase her
f*ck the game, I could knock it up the way I'm puttin' in labor
Now run it back one time
I was down bad, but it runs in the bloodline
Shoot it out back, think it's done, but it ducked by
I would shout "Dad" but nobody once come by
Never been a tough guy, never sold work, cause' I did it
Yeah, I bust mine, but got hella friends moving tree like a mudslide
Bussing motherf*ckers like a table when it's lunch time
So without rap, you would see me in the front lines
I'm that motherf*cker used to being in the background
No one understood me, now they feel me like a pat-down
Once was a rookie but got a bag now
Hip-hop champ, need the belt like a bad child
No time for b*tches who wanna act out
Or these motherf*ckers befriendin' me for a handout
What I need is when I look into that crowd
To see you head bob like a b*tch when I glance down
I know you mad, I know you still want me back
I know you keepin' them tabs on all of my raps
That sh*t is pathetic in fact, that sh*t is embarrassin'
Talk to your therapist, you and yo mama can suck a fat hairy di*k
Where was the parenting? Choke on yo arrogance
Me and yo money, there ain't no comparison

[Outro]
f*ck that n*gga
f*ck that n*gga and run