Letra de Laundry Week

I kicked the year off wit Hot 9
But still y'all be actin like y'all blind
The best on the stage and the crowds mine
But everyones mentioned besides I
Those the kind odds that find that odd
Ain't spot y'all when it was my time
Y'all gon tick me off til I blow
Til I blow like a time bomb
Always throwing shade, always throwin shade, but y'all the reason I got shine
Always throwin shade, always throwin shade, Oh y'all the reason I'm hot huh?
Nah y'all the reason I don't come outside
I don't know how to polly wit
These clown politics who down wit gossipin
I am now unfollowin, so please save your sorry sorrows and apologies
Im the ham wit the collard greens
Food for your soul, you gotta eat

I'm sure you fools know of Qu'ality
It'll be smart to acknowledge me
Besides the squad, I got God wit me
So I don't need y'all honestly
And nah this ain't how it gotta be
But y'all done forced the beast outta me
Since I left I see nothin different
Still payin to sell a bunch of tickets
Still on flyers with 100 spitters
Still on stage with 100 niggas
Still the same names at every show
Still the same lames that led the show
And them same ones, claim the day ones but switch like bi sexual
They'll be back around
Picture me back in down
My brain is like a montage, of metaphors, similes and a pack of nouns
And I roll wit a pack of hounds
That'll stomp you out KAPPA style

And even though that's not my style
They don't take kindly to half you clowns
They see me as the next best rapper out
They see me bank straight cashin out
They see me as the one that can cast em out
Of the streets or the halfway house
We gon' eat Ima pass it out
And then the next one pass it down
And then the next one pass it down
And then the next one, And then the next one, and the next one pass around
So you you know when pack in town
One hand wash the other
Both hands wash the face
Can't fine me I'm too hard to trace
Can't copy I'm too hard to trace
I'm so Brooklyn but too Harlem wait
Im smooth Harlem Mase wit 2Pac and Jay
Worked hard to get on a new broader stage
But they don't make none of of these new artist wait
You could be booked at SOBs by and SOB
Don't feel no ways, plenty people done it please don't let it get so deep

Unless the shoe fits

Then little homie, thats your fault
Protectin my brand, at all cost
Don't associate wit corn balls
I'm goin way up all fall
All Winter Spring and Summer too
My stomach growling this what hunger do
Let's fill these pockets wit the color blue
I'm pissed, consider this the number 2
I give a MILF quick lovin too
Socks still on I'm uncomfortable
Call her Young M.A I make your mother OOOOUUUU!