YIKES - Witt Lowry

I’ve been wearin' this same outfit for the last three days

Like, «Bitch, do I look like I care?»

Nah, I never signed a deal, always independent

Like, «Bitch, do I look like I share?»

Nah, always playing games, always playing wit' me

Like, «Bitch, do I look like a fair?»

Nah, always steppin' on me, it’s sleepin' on me

Like, «Bitch, do I look like a chair?»

Not prepared to feast, it’s time to eat

How can I copy you when you’re a lesser me?

You made a lot of noise, I made a masterpiece

Still laughin' at a few who laughed at me (Hehehe)

All the way to your desk

All I see is my worst when you offer your best

And you know I don’t normally flex

But we came up from nothing, TEAMWITT 'til our deathbed, yes

Here is a fact

Could arm a whole nation with knives in my back

Some people still owe me a sorry in fact

Can keep all that shit, I don’t live in the past

I’m livin' to rap, I’m rappin' to live

I can’t tell the difference, you get what you give

You only hurt you if you never forgive

You already lost if you never begin

It’s what it is, talk all your shit

Confused if you think I’m not one to go savage

You live in a basement and post your reactions

Of people who made it 'cause you were too average

The substitute teacher of rappin' is here

Please give your opinion, I’m dyin' to hear it

See, all of the things that you did in the year

That still never led to a music career

Oh, yikes, here, let me help

«Witt Lowry sucks, he should be shelved»

Lately he’s soundin' like everyone else

You copied the shit 'cause that shit wouldn’t sell

If you’d change a word, or a lyric or two

And put it back out and pretend that it’s new

Then maybe you’ll grow in the way that he grew

I’m glad I inspired, but credit me too

Day in my shoes, you wouldn’t last

Listen to «Hurt,» listen to «Crash»

Try to do good, try to give back

And spill out my soul over all of my tracks

Craps in the barrel, they look down and laugh

And wring us for every last dollar we have

It’s easy to make your lil' rappers look bad

When you don’t own half of the tracks that you rap, damn

(Hehehe, huh)

Did it all by ourselves, fuck your advance

Fuck all the dollars they gave you for marketing

I just want music to come from the heart again

I just want music to become an art again

I was still workin' while you were out partyin'

Wonderin', «How did I build up an audience?»

I put in work and just thought it was obvious

Give me a mic and a beat and I’ll body it

(Du-du-du-du) I’ve been nice, but don’t push me

I rap from the heart and you call me a pussy

I think you’re a coward, you talk like you would be

I’m mad 'cause my life is where you think you should be

Like, what do you get from it?

Posting online

And just spreadin' some negative shit all the time

Yeah, your comment was mean, but I think I’ll be fine

Hate the life that you live, so you’re hatin' on mine, gah

If you want to keep your integrity

You can’t go on for mass production, can you?

I mean you can’t just become a little cog in the big machine

Can you?

I should probably call my mom, it’s been a couple weeks

Funny how I live the dream but I don’t fuckin' sleep

They bring nothing to the table and they want a seat

Constant battle in my mind and all I want is peace

I keep my trophies on the low so they don’t feel bad

«Last Letter» at my show, I know they feel that

I show the people perseverance when I feel sad

I put the music out for free and yet I feel trapped

I used to never own a thing and now I own shit

Livin' in and out a bag like I’m homeless

That’s when I realize that it’s people that are home, shit

As I look at all my things, I’m feeling homesick (Feeling homesick)