Lyrics Noname – Self
Text:
Maybe this the album you listen to in your car when you driving home late at night
Really questioning every god, religion, Kanye, bitches
Maybe this is the interest before you get to the river
I had him before the heathen no reason for you to like me
The baby ain’t really yours
That’s really for babies teething, the chicken wings under-seasoned
Y’all really thought a bitch couldn’t rap huh?
Maybe this your answer for that, the crack era, the Reagan administration?
And niggas are still scared of, nah actually this is for me
This one for TT at the lake serving the mac and the cheese
This one a small apology for all the calls that I screened
Mr. money man, Mr. every day he got me
Mr. wifing me down, Mr. me love, Mr. Miyagi
Miscellaneous, Mr. molly inside my saki
Incredible, incredible emptiness in my body
Heaven’s only four-feet tall, I set my ringer to it
Fucked your rapper homie now his ass is making better music
My pussy teaching ninth-grade English
My pussy wrote a thesis on colonialism
In conversation with a marginal system in love with Jesus
And y’all still thought a bitch couldn’t rap huh?
Maybe this your answer for that
Good pussy, I know niggas only talk about money and good pussy
