Freddie Gibbs & The Alchemist - Something To Rap About (ft. Tyler, The Creator) - Lyrics
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Listen, stream, buy, mp3 download and read the lyrics to "Something To Rap About" by Freddie Gibbs & The Alchemist featuring Tyler, The Creator.
The song was produced by The Alchemist.
Last night, Freddie Gibbs came through with his first official follow-up to Freddie, a classy album produced entirely by The Alchemist boasting the decadent title of Alfredo.
As expected the album was absolutely brimming with bars from its leading man, who has consistently proven himself to be among the game's best lyricists by a wide margin; in fact, he might be the most underappreciated artist of this modern era, an unwavering emcee consistently one-upping himself in every way.
While there are plenty of highlights to be found throughout Alfredo, it's hard to deny the instantaneous appeal of seeing Tyler, The Creator swerve back into his rap lane -- especially when he remains so effortless with it.
Following a noble performance on Westside Gunn's Pray For Paris, The Creator stands tall alongside Gibbs, who casts an imposing shadow in the best of times.
Together they make a solid pair, taking to Alc's laid-back jam session for their idea of a good time.
Freddie Gibbs & The Alchemist - Something To Rap About (ft.
Tyler, The Creator) (prod.
The Alchemist) Lyrics.
[Intro: Freddie Gibbs] Bitch nigga Nigga bitch Oogie-boogie nigga Sniff it up Fuck nigga came to my section on Sunday, didn't even bring shit or bottles, just ate, drank and dipped, fuck nigga Yeah, ayo [Verse 1: Freddie Gibbs] Scammin' niggas maxin' out, ratchet bitches actin' out God made me sell crack so I'd have somethin' to rap about Lobster lollipops and crustaceans, ho, what you mad about? I fucked you twice in Vegas, that pussy wasn't shit to brag about And I can't draw for shit, but I knocked a bitch that I paid to sit Magnums and some sweet aromatics, yeah, bitch I came equipped I don't do no sucker shit with no ho, mistletoe and Christmas exchanging gifts She don't like it, bitch can punch out, niggas be changin' shifts Yeah, you niggas bringin' out the old me (Yeah) I'm tryna live to 93 and see the old me When I touched that crack, I let them crackers take control of me Serve the beast, Caprice ain't got no heat, man, it was cold G Record labels downed me forty thousand on my first advance Fucked up on my taxes, IRS kept me on payment plans Crime fuckin' pays, but once you paid, you gotta pay the man Straight survival, right hand on the Bible, I won't take the stand Yeah, VL niggas trap it out Lord let me hit this ho so I have something to rap about Been through shit with hoes that I look back and I can laugh about This shit wasn't no joke, sittin' in that cage, this shit was draggin' out Diego trippin' cause I'm sittin', ain't no package out He robbed the plug, kicked in the door and cleaned the mattress out Right back in the trap, these niggas bringin' out the old me (Yeah) I'm tryna live to ninety-three and see the old me (Yeah) [Verse 2: Tyler, The Creator] Ayo Nail is in the coffin, Freddie sent me this shit This sound like the boat I haven't bought yet This sound like the moment I jump off it Sun shinin', cold water fillin' in my pockets This lake water better than the faucet I grew up with We hold our breath like grudges 'til we nauseous We hop out, let the sun dry us like raisins We get dressed in some Gucci or Lacoste, shit, it's amazing We look like Polo ads but skin is darkened I gotta move cautious 'cause niggas malicious, they come from the trenches I used to be a Goblin under them bridges, now I'm a businessman I started gettin' moola as youngin', now I got bigger hands To hold 'em, if I got too much on me, I know my niggas can I keep my circle tight like tops, nothin' corn, no crops You messy and get cleaned up with the mop I went to school and I ain't miss it a lot So I can be around niggas like you and learn how to keep my distance I cut some niggas off on some hater shit niggas said to me R.I.P.
tees 'cause these motherfuckers is dead to me Nail is in the coffin, murder, murder I'm sick of y'all niggas and I ain't coughin', I know me Y'all often anxious, lost in y'all thoughts and I don't relate So keep that energy away from me Don't blame me, 'cause you ain't got it figured out You ain't got the bigger house, the jig is up You jealous, dawg, my afro long, I'll pick it out Like cotton on some basic, shit is off We ain't adjacent I'm grounded like the pavement, we ain't linkin' like the bracelet broke Better get your wrist that hold on the thoughts you get and go The fuck away, 'cause niggas get they faces broke I just got a thumbs up and niggas go, like, "Good job" You better find a shoe store and get your sole Get it quick and slip it on And I'll be in "My-konos", lemonade, sippin' slow Jumpin' in the water off that boat I haven't bought yet, bitch [Outro: Tyler, The Creator] One take Let me hear that I meant to say "Mykonos" (Haha) [Interlude] I think (I think) that he died from alcohol (But I'm afraid—) But if you write dog shit, it doesn't do any good what you die— Teach the parents to be civilized people, becau— Freddie Gibbs