Thanks Ghostwriters by K Bibbles Lyrics
HOOK
I can’t stop, cuz I don’t know how to
Started so I gotta finish, that’s how I do
Never been the type to make a promise, not come thru
If that’s you, then I gotta say fuck you
VERSE
Please excuse ya boy for lookin’ hella disgusting
Because I’ve been on my grind, I’m talkin’ straight up hustlin’
I’ve been shamelessly aiming all my shit talkin’ and anger to people that won’t hear it ‘till the day I blow and get famous
Misbehavin’ every day so they remember my name and every single fuckin’ reason that I came in the game
Because it’s obvious it needs me, not just cuz y’all lame
It’s cuz it’s filled with bums and druggies who don’t write what they say
I’m playin’, okay?
Fuck that, go away
How you call yourself an artist? It ain’t even from your brain
Collabing can be dope but ya gotta do somethin’
Instead of poppin’ xans and only carin’ ‘bout humping
Be thankful your producer’s got the lil kids bumping
It’s catchy so the ladies practice bootical jumping
I’m just makin’ words up at this point, I’m wild
Type of shit you haven’t seen for little while, so smile!
Young GOAT, take notes, holy shit, like I’m pooping with the pope
That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever freakin’ wrote
Some might argue it’s the track about my loads, I would argue that you’re slow, while I shoot my shot inside your daughter’s hole
HOOK
VERSE
I’m not stoppin’ cuz she’s yet to blow the snow up off my pole, up her nose
Shawty’s dope, ride or die type, I might bring her to my show
Get some coochie in the back, on the low
If she swallows, then she’s comin’ on the road
No bros, ‘less they been there from the start, no joke
Been stabbed too many times, in the back, not a poke
I’ve been riding down a slippery slope, drowning sorrows mixed with Coke
Waiting for a sign to take the other road
I know eventually where I will go
It’s okay but days get crazy and it gets into the way of chasing goals
I’m just tryna make some cake, maybe get baked, and bang a hoe
Sorry, that was just my writer who’s a ghost - I mean, shit!
No, I wrote that, it was me
Scout’s honor, honestly
I’m an artist, I’m retarded, really everybody be
I approach it kinda silly but it’s really logically
I am someone that should be up on your screen - TV
Instead we have these people who manipulate and loosely speculate, the facts are made, they say them anyway
I thought I was shameless, guess I gotta step my game up but I’d rather be OG ‘n’ unique than fake to get my pay stub - fuckin’ dweebs
HOOK
OUTRO
I’ll write everything I spit until I’m dead and done with it cuz only I know me and it’s my life so you don’t get to pick whatever chapter’s coming next cuz when I fuck up it’s my mess and I’ll address it in the way that I see fit because it’s best, so fuck off
I can’t stop, cuz I don’t know how to
Started so I gotta finish, that’s how I do
Never been the type to make a promise, not come thru
If that’s you, then I gotta say fuck you
VERSE
Please excuse ya boy for lookin’ hella disgusting
Because I’ve been on my grind, I’m talkin’ straight up hustlin’
I’ve been shamelessly aiming all my shit talkin’ and anger to people that won’t hear it ‘till the day I blow and get famous
Misbehavin’ every day so they remember my name and every single fuckin’ reason that I came in the game
Because it’s obvious it needs me, not just cuz y’all lame
It’s cuz it’s filled with bums and druggies who don’t write what they say
I’m playin’, okay?
Fuck that, go away
How you call yourself an artist? It ain’t even from your brain
Collabing can be dope but ya gotta do somethin’
Instead of poppin’ xans and only carin’ ‘bout humping
Be thankful your producer’s got the lil kids bumping
It’s catchy so the ladies practice bootical jumping
I’m just makin’ words up at this point, I’m wild
Type of shit you haven’t seen for little while, so smile!
Young GOAT, take notes, holy shit, like I’m pooping with the pope
That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever freakin’ wrote
Some might argue it’s the track about my loads, I would argue that you’re slow, while I shoot my shot inside your daughter’s hole
HOOK
VERSE
I’m not stoppin’ cuz she’s yet to blow the snow up off my pole, up her nose
Shawty’s dope, ride or die type, I might bring her to my show
Get some coochie in the back, on the low
If she swallows, then she’s comin’ on the road
No bros, ‘less they been there from the start, no joke
Been stabbed too many times, in the back, not a poke
I’ve been riding down a slippery slope, drowning sorrows mixed with Coke
Waiting for a sign to take the other road
I know eventually where I will go
It’s okay but days get crazy and it gets into the way of chasing goals
I’m just tryna make some cake, maybe get baked, and bang a hoe
Sorry, that was just my writer who’s a ghost - I mean, shit!
No, I wrote that, it was me
Scout’s honor, honestly
I’m an artist, I’m retarded, really everybody be
I approach it kinda silly but it’s really logically
I am someone that should be up on your screen - TV
Instead we have these people who manipulate and loosely speculate, the facts are made, they say them anyway
I thought I was shameless, guess I gotta step my game up but I’d rather be OG ‘n’ unique than fake to get my pay stub - fuckin’ dweebs
HOOK
OUTRO
I’ll write everything I spit until I’m dead and done with it cuz only I know me and it’s my life so you don’t get to pick whatever chapter’s coming next cuz when I fuck up it’s my mess and I’ll address it in the way that I see fit because it’s best, so fuck off