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hasty - conscience & syndrome lyrics

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i remember days at my grandma’s house
sleeping on the couch, whole fam on the ground
dirty lil’ b*tch in the back talk down
but her friend sent a pic with her ass all out

got em’ all mad. get a bag! you broke!
i been off that. it’s sad, you know?
seen you on the gram. stand back. b*tch pose!
i’m about to shoot a mag. cl!ck, clack. you vogue!

said you don’t need a scrub. that’s why you a stank hoe!
i don’t do the club. rather pull up to the bank hoe
you won’t get a crumb from me. pockets on that panko
shawty want the love. feeling up like it’s the tank low

lame hoe. better lay low
looking like a peso. keeping it a bank note
better take notes. i been all about a bank roll
check the pay roll. i’m an a*hole, but i ain’t broke!

lately i been like f*ck you pay me
hate me all you want. b*tch, go crazy
ladies all on my d*ck too hasty
save me! all of them want my baby

daily mother f*ckers talk fugazi
shady. talk sh*t? b*tch, 180
face me! nothing you say gon’ phase me
wake me when somebody don’t betray me
long time coming and i’m better than i ever been
and i got my team on my back like a letter man
they ain’t wanna let him in. left me in the rain with the mic
something like i was a weatherman

running up the paper like the pacer
torn ripped chuck taylors to fits tailored
treat a b*tch like a drink sir. never chase her
f*ck the game. i could knock it up the way i’m putting in labor

now, run it back one time
i was down bad, but it runs in the blood line
shoot it out back. think it’s done, but it ducked by
i would shout dad, but n0body once come by
never been a tough guy
never sold work. boy i did it. yeah i bust mine
but got h*lla friends moving tree like a mudslide
bussing mother f*ckers like a table when it’s lunch time
so without rap, you would see me in the front lines

i’m that mother f*cker used to being in the background
no one understood me, now they feel me like a pat down
once was a rookie but got a bag now
hip*hop champ! need the belt like a bad child

no time for b*tches who wanna act out
or these mother f*ckers befriending me for a hand out!
what i need is when i look into that crowd
to see you head bob like a b*tch when i glance down
i know you mad! i know you still want me back!
i know you keeping them tabs on all of my raps
that sh*t is pathetic in fact

that sh*t is embarrassing
talk to yo therapist
you and yo mama can suck a fat hairy d*ck!
where was the parenting?
choke on yo arrogance
me and yo money? there ain’t no comparison

- conscience syndrome lyrics

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