Undrafted by Melvin Burch Lyrics
[Intro]
Oh, wait, sidebar? Left some beat at the end so that all of you f*ck n*ggas could loop it and get your lies off
[Verse]
But I ain't never lie; this is practice
Leave me an instrumental, I go loopy; track 6
I'm not a dog you're throwin' scraps to
I'm not a struggle rapper; I'm not a vacuum
I don't suck, and I'm not sucking up, and I don't live in one
So yeah, I know this is bad news
Ain't nobody tryina' hear an unknown drone on and on over a beat everyone gon' try to own
Well, consider this a lease, Drake, I'm a fan
But you only fed me inspiration, I'ma bite the hand
This ain't a feast, this is weight watchers
I been sick, and I hate doctors; I have an appointment next week
Thinking of pulling a Joker, pressing the button
And when the heads roll, I'ma take off my Chucks and play soccer
I need to get a job;
Instead, I trudge around my dorm, writing songs in between "Sasha Grey hours"
I used to work at Vons
I was a courtesy clerk, and that worked, but I woulda' been a great stocker
Reason being, I give the goods to the people and I'm shelving you rappers
My apologies, they expired, shoppers
I keep bagging on you, sorry if your cart is heavy
You must lack the hunger, this game would eat you and barf already
Hey, Drake, J. Law's cool, but pass me Cassie Steele's number
I ain't that attractive, but my heart is sexy
That kid growing up; that kid finna be 21, bet he just orders a quart of Pepsi
That kid too skinny; that kid know he need a hair cut but stay nappy like narcolepsy
But it's The Boy; Drake and 'Bino
Shout out Chance, I acid rap, I don't mean amino
Making you see stuff, but it ain't hallucination
I'm taking you to the place, welcome to the newest nation
Melville; rappers like "This is probably how hell feels."
Starving and broke cause I withheld meals
Dictatorship; y'all saltier than tater' chips
So why are all of your songs flavorless?
I don't get it; I guess I must be stupid
They use your music to sleep, I guess I must be useless
No way, Jose; they say I must be juicin'
But they don't know that they while they're puttin' on a show, I'm provin'
That simple; to you, it's like a ton
It's just food for thought; try not to bite your tongue
Gotta problem, speak it; trust me, I'm all ears
But I'm not easing up, I'ma do this all year
Feeling like spring chicken on my spring break
Wings spread, steady puffin' out my breastplate
Young Bird Chest, stuntin' like I'm swole
Prince Melvin, I'm at home in my swivel chair throne
Storming your castle, you shoulda' been prepared, though
With your queen, watching cartoon streams, eatin' Haribo
I tried to tell you; I swear I tried to tell you
Ahh, man...
You didn't think I'd do it to you
Oh, you didn't think I'd do it to you?
You didn't know I'd do it to you
You didn't know I'd do it to you
Yeah
Draft Day; Oh, I ain't get picked?
I'll go overseas and rap, they know the kid spit
Draft Day; Oh, I ain't get picked?
I'll go overseas and rap, they know the kid spit
Oh, wait, sidebar? Left some beat at the end so that all of you f*ck n*ggas could loop it and get your lies off
[Verse]
But I ain't never lie; this is practice
Leave me an instrumental, I go loopy; track 6
I'm not a dog you're throwin' scraps to
I'm not a struggle rapper; I'm not a vacuum
I don't suck, and I'm not sucking up, and I don't live in one
So yeah, I know this is bad news
Ain't nobody tryina' hear an unknown drone on and on over a beat everyone gon' try to own
Well, consider this a lease, Drake, I'm a fan
But you only fed me inspiration, I'ma bite the hand
This ain't a feast, this is weight watchers
I been sick, and I hate doctors; I have an appointment next week
Thinking of pulling a Joker, pressing the button
And when the heads roll, I'ma take off my Chucks and play soccer
I need to get a job;
Instead, I trudge around my dorm, writing songs in between "Sasha Grey hours"
I used to work at Vons
I was a courtesy clerk, and that worked, but I woulda' been a great stocker
Reason being, I give the goods to the people and I'm shelving you rappers
My apologies, they expired, shoppers
I keep bagging on you, sorry if your cart is heavy
You must lack the hunger, this game would eat you and barf already
Hey, Drake, J. Law's cool, but pass me Cassie Steele's number
I ain't that attractive, but my heart is sexy
That kid growing up; that kid finna be 21, bet he just orders a quart of Pepsi
That kid too skinny; that kid know he need a hair cut but stay nappy like narcolepsy
But it's The Boy; Drake and 'Bino
Shout out Chance, I acid rap, I don't mean amino
Making you see stuff, but it ain't hallucination
I'm taking you to the place, welcome to the newest nation
Melville; rappers like "This is probably how hell feels."
Starving and broke cause I withheld meals
Dictatorship; y'all saltier than tater' chips
So why are all of your songs flavorless?
I don't get it; I guess I must be stupid
They use your music to sleep, I guess I must be useless
No way, Jose; they say I must be juicin'
But they don't know that they while they're puttin' on a show, I'm provin'
That simple; to you, it's like a ton
It's just food for thought; try not to bite your tongue
Gotta problem, speak it; trust me, I'm all ears
But I'm not easing up, I'ma do this all year
Feeling like spring chicken on my spring break
Wings spread, steady puffin' out my breastplate
Young Bird Chest, stuntin' like I'm swole
Prince Melvin, I'm at home in my swivel chair throne
Storming your castle, you shoulda' been prepared, though
With your queen, watching cartoon streams, eatin' Haribo
I tried to tell you; I swear I tried to tell you
Ahh, man...
You didn't think I'd do it to you
Oh, you didn't think I'd do it to you?
You didn't know I'd do it to you
You didn't know I'd do it to you
Yeah
Draft Day; Oh, I ain't get picked?
I'll go overseas and rap, they know the kid spit
Draft Day; Oh, I ain't get picked?
I'll go overseas and rap, they know the kid spit