Chubby Jag – Poetry Lounge Lyrics
[Intro: Chubby Jag]
Zen beats
Yeah, Woo
Chubby
Y’all know what it is, Hah
Uh
Welcome to Scattered Thoughts
Yup
We gon’ go in tonight
I got that same grizz as young we was having
Chubby
[Verse 1: Chubby Jag]
Feel like I’m in a movie, with no cast
All alone, just a blunt and a broke ass
Like I’m playing in the Super Bowl, no pass
Wonder how my life would a been with no Cass
Wonder if I still could a did it without a brain
Wonder if I would been balling without a gang
How I managed to keep it polished without a stain
Wonder if I’d be in this pussy without a chain
I lost my Dad, my twin brother, my closet Granny
That’s why I act like the King, niggas supposed to fear me
Yeah I’m a salesmen, even if the dope is bogus
I can still make it disappear, Hocus Pocus
Swear, I just want the chance to say I’m on Lord
Just want the chance to feel stingy, am I wrong Lord
Yeah I been calling, I hope you pick up the phone Lord
I try to make it, but shit been hard since I’m grown Lord
I used to think that I could do it on my own Lord
I mean my Granny had my back, but now she gone Lord
I came to grips, I won’t sign if I get the deal
Just do this real nigga shit, homes spit the real
And I guess I’m eating for nights that I skipped the meal
I feel it’s just to early to go, who gon’ split the real
Weed, pills, drank lean, anything to get me stoned
But never sell my soul, I won’t do anything to get me on
I just lost somebody close, wishing he could hear me homes
Pour a little liquor out, two times, cause Whitney gone
Yeah one day, I could be rolling
Like Gun Play, I’ll see a nigga someday
Yeah, you see the smoke in my hot now
They ask me if I’m going to quit, I tell ‘em not now
Should be a millionaire with all the shit I jot down
Always keep it strapped, cause some of my niggas did done shot down
Had to leave my city to get on, I feel like ‘Bron ‘Bron
Stay with that machine gun, Bad Boy, Sean John
I swear I’ll never leave this game, gotta marry me in
Living the dream, n’ I’m balling, I’m Jeremy Lin
Chubby, so if you feel it you know what he down
I’m kinda lost, bad bitches been showing me ’round
This my the heart home, this is how poetry sound
Yeah this is all me, this is my Poetry Lounge
[Interlude: Chubby Jag]
Haha
I know this the part where I’m supposed to stop and all that
And end the song, you know
Pu-Hah
Welcome to Scattered Thoughts
We going in baby, yeah
This shit don’t stop, this just the beginning
We in here homes
West side nigga, the real west side
[Verse 2: Chubby Jag]
They told me that I’d been spazzing, I’m over reckless
Labels tryna bag dumby ho, show the exit
Bitches don’t even know my name, but they know the necklace
I’m used to riding with an L, like a drove a Lexus
The critics gon’ say he weird, trust me, he just fly
Remember nights crying, praying to him, Jesus why
He talked back to me, told me you gon’ be the best
And I believe him cause I never heard my Jesus lie
I say Amen, got me Meek Mill’n
Terrell told me I’m going to pop if I keep killing
Biggie said it first, Mo’ Money, Mo’ Problems
It seem the more money I make, niggas keep billing
I need a deal for a deal, that’s how rap do it
I used to steal for a mill’, won’t go back for it
I fell of for a second, I’m back to it
I know my old friends hate to see this cat do it
I’m in the E class, diamonds, that shiny shit
They say I’m flaming, home mach ten, ninety-six
I guess it’s time for me to pay, I’ve been giving my dues
I mean how dare a nigga talk to me like he live in my shoes
That mean you the one they look at when they cremate
That mean losing friends and family at a teenage
That mean junior high you walking with the chrome nigga
And getting jumped just for chilling with the wrong niggas
N’ lose your house, and you sleeping in a motel
Two beds, six people, niggas like, “Oh well”
That mean your Momma disappointed and she looking down
Cause you ain’t got a high school diploma, and you pushing pounds
That mean you ain’t nothing like me, I spit the real
I talked to Wifey, it’d change when I get the deal
I write my best at the beach, I’m at here at the pier
Snapped since ’09, I just hope this year is the year
I mean I want it so bad that I could kill a nigga
Feeling here, pop homes, I just hope she feel a nigga
Smoke like a weed store, I’m in the labels like LeBron
With his ring, yelling “I’ma need more”
Nigga with a banquet, family I precede for
Young boys that never had a way, who I should see it for
I used to dream with niggas signing with the rock
Never thought I’d be hustling, niggas grinding with the block
I remember going straight to the booth from the corner
With the crank in my pocket, now I’m rhyming with the rock, get me
Now I’m vet, I ain’t worried ’bout the rookie years
Do it for Mom, cause she the one that fucking put me hear
Still spitting bars though, cause that’s the shit that took me here
Bad bitch gotta a vagina, shining like a pussy pierce
You take shots, and you peel, niggas peel back
We only know that real, real shit, this is real rap
Details
- Artist : Chubby Jag
- Released : 2013
- Genre : Hip Hop[, Rap
- Label :
- Album :
- Language : English
- Country : USA
