Gettin’ a Grip

By Proph3cY

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Verse:

How you gonna tell me which music i like

Which women I might- which sweater or fitted is right- your kiddin' me right?

Say what you please but my rhythm is tight- I don't another critic with their rigid advice- I'm clean and im cool-your stinking the room- spittin up a different combination of shit- on every single tune- yes I'm talkin to you- cluttering up the view make room I been blessed for very many moons

Or How you gon' tell me that I'm only buzzed

I need to do drugs I need the 2 points of Molly up on my tounge

Or how much I can grow off the shrooms like Mario

Got dejavu with this reoccurring scenario

You need to do this- you need to do that- you could take a step back bitch I'm built for the tracks- like I'm NASCAR's finest

Ask your sinus

Klein's so i'll he'll spill that virus, but how you abolish the fact that I slap- just right off the bat- I'm white and I rap- but look at my stats

I know that there's a group of some people laughin at that- and I'm tryina do is improve on people like that

Your telling me there isn't a white to ying and yangs black- like I ain't bringin hip hop back?

Hah ha ha ha ha!

And Fuck a label that tries to rep what I'm rhyming I'm in command of my flavor I'll pick my packets of roman

Why you tellin me not to blow on this herb- I do cuz you on my nerve- reciprocating my curve

Yeah -ex girl- waddup- you thought I missed you?

The only piece I wanna see of youis pussy tissue

Always tryna mold me and I don't fold is the issue- lemme keep it all smiles you live the way to continue

More than often stressin me I knew I had to drop the bitch

While my music was doing only the opposite

Stop distorting my mind- people around me

You make me feel so lousy

Mouths are talkin bout me

Cuz how you gonna tell me my stories just ordinary

I don't think you realize the pain in my coronary

Built from self image decline- half of the time- I find- this deformity overshadows my mind

But how you gonna tell me what beauty is and what isn't she took me back to her crib and were drunk I'm sure that I'm hittin

Twenty minutes later the vibe was dead I'm dippin I'm walkin home in the rain and I am undoubtedly trippin- jumpin to the conclusion my flaw aborted my mission

Who the fuck am I kiddin the flaws inside of these bitches

Flaws inside our society god just grant me these wishes

Let me get grip on myself I'm tired of slippin

Hook:

Gettin a grip on myself, Fuck everybody else (repeat)