作曲 : Marcus D

Yeah

Y’all copycats killed the game a while ago

I see you staring at the menu like a pile of gold

Y’all’s dish taste like a dry salad bowl

If you disappeared no I’m not sad at all

I heard imitation is a form of flattery

No imagination whatsoever

What kind of sorcery? I mean

Where’s the magic of originality

The rare element of surprise—the ingenuity

Ever since the pioneers gone the airwaves got polluted

If the culture was a store, it got looted

Comin’ up always the excuse

Don’t matter who did the deed so to speak

But the dead don’t talk

Now the bullshit walk

This ain’t about old or new

Or me versus you

It’s about are you fresh or are you wack?

Definitely not the shoes

I’m not with those dudes

I’ve already paid my dues

Y’all copycats can’t look me in the eyes

How many times I have turned a blind eye

Down to the font on the print I don’t lie

I pay my respects but I never idolize

Y’all copycats killed the game a while ago

I see me staring at the menu like a pile of gold

Y’all’s dish taste like a dry salad bowl

If you disappeared I wouldn’t be sad at all

Not at all

Nah

I’ve had it up to

Here with these fools I’m cappin’

Y’all copycats beat a dead horse

Then beat your meat to it

Don’t come at me with that weak shit

I’ll see through it

Then my beats hit like hot sewage

Try to live the formula

But the key ingredient is missing

From your recipe—is it granular?

Old school grind sweat and tears (yo tears)

Nothing you can download fast it takes years

Terabyte touring when it rains it’s pouring

Real paintball these lyrics is boring

To hit the pavement in the morning to make payments

Life is the furthest from entertainment

Distraction is in order can’t afford to

Waste precious time with the unimportant

The question is “what do I do ‘til I die?”

And FYI I am still DIY

Y’all copycats killed the game a while ago

I see you staring at the menu like a pile of gold

Y'all's dish taste like a dry salad bowl

If you disappeared no I’m not sad at all

N