[Verse 1]

Is it still about the music?

Tell me just how you use it

Being someone who views it as something more than amusement

I find it confusing

How they complain about the skill

Talk about struggle rappers

But they ain't about the real

And be the same dudes

Posting gossip for the page views

Claim to love the culture but never explore the debuts

Zero to sixty now it's rave reviews

'Cuz that rapper that they shitted on got cosigned and made the news

They legit try to flip

On some dick-rider shit

Misguided critics just trying to sit

With the in crowd

Whatever's buzzing they gon' spin loud

Never form opinions, regurgitate what they been 'round

Quick to anoint, saying they like the joint

Whether or not it's nice is really besides the point

It's the arrogance

Looking at artists like they taking space

Self-proclaimed taste-makers, but I can make the case

That they two peas in a pod

The reason is odd

Those who starve for attention then believe the facade

That they betray

I'm staying above the fray

Put my heart in my art in my rugged beloved way


[Hook]

You ain't about the music

You 'bout that bullshit

I could do without that bullshit

I could do without that bullshit

I see right through it

Ain't nothing to it

(2x)


[Verse 2]

They be like why you so defensive?

Why so introspective and pensive?

Building a fence as if the genre's offensive

Nah, spotting trends, we see them through different lenses

Shit be killing my vibe, motherfuck the forensics

Like what you like, nigga hype what you hype

Provided that shit that you fight for you rightfully like

Who's got a mind of their own?

Who ain't defined as a clone?

Who don't be switching up opinions that they privately own?

Bueller

Now wait a minute

This ain't a genre that hate invented

We paving a lane, getting creative in it

Feel like a native in it

And in my day-to-day, I practice not giving a fuck

I ain't afraid to say

What's exactly on my mind

That's exactly why I rhyme

If I stop, you better ask me why I'm lying

I go to the grave with a clenched fist

Holding my tenth disk

Spitting that diplomat shit

I really meant this


[Hook]