Bigpapicarter - Nothing Lyrics

      

Nothing
by bigpapicarter

Verse 1
Yo, rest in peace to George Carlin — we bringing back the beheadings
Decapitate the snake and put the team on my back like I'm Greg Jennings
Drown out the crowd noise, collect poise, see where I’m heading
Yo, I’m hard to handle — Otis Redding

 And dawg, I’m too hot to get got, too cold to hold
I done turned the dustiest records to gold
You know that old soul bought and sold out the dollar bin
So I can get ahold of the flips to get the crowd hollering (yuh)

 I test a beat at bodega to get the data
And savor a moment of devoted listeners to play for
I’m keeping the cuts sharper than chef blades or straight razor
Apply the layers and MFX to enhance the flavor

 Yo, these the fruits of my labor — lack of sleep and ambition
Another step in the expedition, my life’s mission
I’m type different, out the box when I drop
Yo I’m in it for fulfillment, lil' recognition and props, dawg

 Chorus
You know I gotta give props, I can’t stop — without y’all I’d be nothing
No wreck and no checks and no rhymes and no cutting
You know I gotta give props, I can’t stop — without y’all I’d be nothing
I come with the real like perspective and rule

 Verse 2
Ayo, it’s Big Papi, real large, I’m spittin’ ill bars
I’m the Mahdi of rap, people look to me like they was Stilgar
And you can see it in my bones like skinny bitch ribs are
I'm still hard, lighting up, got my weed in the cigar

 Yo I inhale, I’m big and they been frail
They missing their shot — Westbrook having a brick sale
I’m blessed that I got robbed and I ain’t sittin’ in jail
Or found in Pompano dead and headless like a pin nail

 So I been firing on every cylinders for the listener
I led a congregation of Sound Sermon — a minister
Sounds akin to Dilla, administer like it’s literature
Type shit that range from heavenly to the sinister beats

 On my D Wade, I’m back with the Heat
Back on my feet, I’m on the boards and I’m back in my seat
Playing this 4-bar loop on repeat — might delete
Or throw it in the vault for another time to complete, maybe (maybe not)

 Chorus
You know I gotta give props, I can’t stop — without y’all I’d be nothing
No wreck and no checks and no rhymes and no cutting
You know I gotta give props, I can’t stop — without y’all I’d be nothing
I come with the real like perspective and rule

 Verse 3
Yo, every couple years I reemerge after I disappear
Drop the beats, compositions I layered and engineered
Yo, that's tried and true through cyphers and rap peers
I provide the proof, it’s in the root of track of this track here

 Yo I got some questions — I’m just tryna see it clear
What is confidence without fear? Joy without tears?
And what's a vinyl record without turntables and gear?
And what’s a great piece of music without listening ears?

 Yo, I got six pairs, not including Apple at time of recording
It got me thinking Spotify's got a data shortage
For those who’ve given me their time, I try to reward it
With some 404 source tracks that’s exported

 I’m bringing styles assorted Bruton Music, the library
Don’t give a fuck about the rest, the music primary
My shit infinite — contrast to the binary
My rhythm taking flight and they talking like, "Nah, the sky scary"

 That’s why I’m flying high, sight aligned on iron skies
With more potential to shine than diamond mines
I’m gliding on the horizon wide, moving with a lion’s pride
Or church power — I’m emanating my righteous side

 Ayo it's time to get this fucking album finalized
I'll be the moon and pull you in like the rising tide
I hope you like the vibe, I took the time, I’m never rushing
Labcabin styles, this something that means something, dawg