But Wait Songtext
von Marco Polo & Torae
But Wait Songtext
Yo, you got trash niggas that′s sellin
Street niggas that's tellin
Niggas named Henry dressin like they Helen
The kids don′t listen, the third grade's rebellin
We got cops killin the blacks, blacks killin the blacks
Niggas with jail time that's not comin back
Even the females wild, they don′t know how to act
(B-b-b-but wait, it gets worse...)
Niggas scared to get scorched, they ain′t passin the torch
Claimin the new niggas don't really walk the walk
Really talk the talk - really, that′s they thought?
(B-b-b-but wait, it gets worse...)
The muthafuckin stakes is high, gas rates is high
People get taxed and told on every dime
It's white collar, blue collar, wife beater crimes (B-b-b-but wait, it gets worse...)
I figured it′ll get better the more that I'm gettin cheddar
The more that the guap came the more they wouldn′t let up
Back in the days niggas'd go head up or shut up
Now in the days they go, come back, you get wet up
A lotta gat clappin to cover the wack rappin
The SoundScans are down, wonder how that happened?
Nigga, my flow is oh so hard to imagine
It sound like spiked bats and Monster Trucks crashin
When Red came in the game it was Time 4 Sum Aksion
Now that I splashed in I'm takin it back to the future
Respect if a nigga tell me my album didn′t suit ya
But once you get foul and wild on your computer
I′m front door, Tor for sure I bring it to ya
One of a kind and high as the sun in the sky
Nigga ask about Tor, tell him son on his grind
Used to go to different labels tryina get signed
Now they leave me voice messages, I'm takin my time
To call ′em back, I tell 'em Uhuru and holla black
If you tryina enslave me no need to holla back
I′m a renegade soldier, rotten rapper, I told ya
Pro-black, I don't put cream in my Folgers
But love puttin CREAM in my bill fold holder
Before the curtain go up, please cough my dough up
Veteran young, better than Tom, nigga you dumb
Your man is real I′ll but I'm better than son
Do a lotta shows and smash at every one
How you seen Tor fail if it's never been done?
That′s a good imagination, I′m mad you niggas is hatin
Focus your energy off me, you could be taken
The magazine spread had 'em all seein red
That was a XXL, the next′ll be the FEDS
If you try me, hm, can I get charged with
If ain't nobody ever recover the body?
I used to date a broad that look like Buffy the Body
Ass-wise, but her face was similar to Halle
A nigga couldn′t be in his right mind to try me
'Less he tryina be on the IV, I be
Spectacular spittin, vernacular hittin with accuarate wisdom
Not to mention I rap with precision
Matchin the vision, my words bring more trap than a prison
Ask if it isn′t math or religion, pass me the ism
Smashin the system
Street niggas that's tellin
Niggas named Henry dressin like they Helen
The kids don′t listen, the third grade's rebellin
We got cops killin the blacks, blacks killin the blacks
Niggas with jail time that's not comin back
Even the females wild, they don′t know how to act
(B-b-b-but wait, it gets worse...)
Niggas scared to get scorched, they ain′t passin the torch
Claimin the new niggas don't really walk the walk
Really talk the talk - really, that′s they thought?
(B-b-b-but wait, it gets worse...)
The muthafuckin stakes is high, gas rates is high
People get taxed and told on every dime
It's white collar, blue collar, wife beater crimes (B-b-b-but wait, it gets worse...)
I figured it′ll get better the more that I'm gettin cheddar
The more that the guap came the more they wouldn′t let up
Back in the days niggas'd go head up or shut up
Now in the days they go, come back, you get wet up
A lotta gat clappin to cover the wack rappin
The SoundScans are down, wonder how that happened?
Nigga, my flow is oh so hard to imagine
It sound like spiked bats and Monster Trucks crashin
When Red came in the game it was Time 4 Sum Aksion
Now that I splashed in I'm takin it back to the future
Respect if a nigga tell me my album didn′t suit ya
But once you get foul and wild on your computer
I′m front door, Tor for sure I bring it to ya
One of a kind and high as the sun in the sky
Nigga ask about Tor, tell him son on his grind
Used to go to different labels tryina get signed
Now they leave me voice messages, I'm takin my time
To call ′em back, I tell 'em Uhuru and holla black
If you tryina enslave me no need to holla back
I′m a renegade soldier, rotten rapper, I told ya
Pro-black, I don't put cream in my Folgers
But love puttin CREAM in my bill fold holder
Before the curtain go up, please cough my dough up
Veteran young, better than Tom, nigga you dumb
Your man is real I′ll but I'm better than son
Do a lotta shows and smash at every one
How you seen Tor fail if it's never been done?
That′s a good imagination, I′m mad you niggas is hatin
Focus your energy off me, you could be taken
The magazine spread had 'em all seein red
That was a XXL, the next′ll be the FEDS
If you try me, hm, can I get charged with
If ain't nobody ever recover the body?
I used to date a broad that look like Buffy the Body
Ass-wise, but her face was similar to Halle
A nigga couldn′t be in his right mind to try me
'Less he tryina be on the IV, I be
Spectacular spittin, vernacular hittin with accuarate wisdom
Not to mention I rap with precision
Matchin the vision, my words bring more trap than a prison
Ask if it isn′t math or religion, pass me the ism
Smashin the system
Writer(s): Torae Liston Carr, Marco P. Bruno Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
