SameOldKid lyrics

[Verse 1: Ghostemane]
Ain't nobody ever did sh*t for me so I won't do a thing for them
Motherf*cker step back trying to be my fan I can see the bullsh*t with no contacts in
I don't want no friends, I don't need me a Benz
Got a Marquis red with the limousine tint
Ride around town and they can't see me
I'm gettin road head look at me drive slow like an old man
Trust nobody I'm the same old kid
Workin like them motherf*ckers who are makin' little ends
Sippin' big lean when the homegirl spins
Got my 11 Vans on stepping on your 10's
I'm a mean ass kid
If I did it for my daddy hey would have to throw it up to R.I.P
One morning he did not wake up from his sleep and now he deceased
Buddha he told me that's just how it be
Hand in that booth like a brand new beatin' so watch that sh*t if you wanna keep breathin'
Pitch white skin so I get alotta heat, but I don't pay mind to an anti KREEP
Anyway you mad cause your b*tch chose me a skinny young Ghoste with them all gold teeth
Plain black tall tee always been a Outkast freak and that's still me with my big buck teeth
What's the point of livin' if you livin' like a b*tch
Won't take a risk if you keep a lit wrist
Ain't no wonder why you no longer got your chick
If you're livin' with your momma still on that tit
Motherf*cka I've been on my own sh*t
Straight surviving sufficiently self providing
Sprinkle psychedelic mushrooms on my food so I can levitate and get away from you fools
[Verse 2: DJ Killa C]
Aye, runnin' and gunnin'
He be that n*gga Killa with the 12 gauge
n*gga get slayed every day from the sh*t that I say
Better yet it's from the sh*t that I spray that leave your whole f*ckin' body in a cave, but anyway
n*gga that wanna run up and talk sh*t, they get put up on my hit list and get hit quick
Barrel up to your mouth like a Bic for no [?]
That n*gga that Killa be comin around and killin' with the quickness
So uh, you might wanna slow your roll before I lose control and take your soul
And no goin back when I be up in the lac wearin' all black now what ya call that? b*tch n*gga fall back
I'm a schema n*gga when I be up on the scene
Finna peel a n*gga cap with the infared beam
All you gotta do is go and give Killa the word
Shotgun leave his insides sitting on the curb
As I tip-toe back to my Cutlass and light up a spliff, in my whip
If anybody wanna start a problem best believe that I'll empty the clip
Straight off the rim when I spit on a beat I kill the sh*t
Spit so much heat I leave the mic extra crisp
No gang fame with the angsty sh*t
Schema boys and we f*ckin' ecstacy, n*gga