what more you want from me... - kataem lyrics
katt attack and the tracks erupts in a m-ssive flash| the d-mn percussion blasts when i’m added ill crack yo wack -ssumptions| convert to half when i crush em its either that or nothing| look at the laps that i’m running, runner ups can’t discuss it| pardon me? tell em to keep my name out they arteries| my name in vein i’m outshining yo light be shining dark on me| my crew be one two stepping these money moves look like cardi b| i mean i survived so i ain’t gon’ die if life’s hard to me| sorry teach.. but i take for granted lessons you taught to me| dis-ssociate so much i swear even numbers look odd to me| now, but that won’t stop me from calling my self a prodigy| word to mom and pop cause they know they prod. a g properly| i’m on the road to my fantasy| obstacles to the back of me| scaborough rapping scene ain’t a match if you asking me| these half emcees take up half of the rapping faculty| 45% can’t match the beat for the family lives| but population decides| and then my patience declines| and then the game is deprived| from facts and then that became or demise, word| greatness disguised and m-ffled out under lies| more that they g-ssed up, hotter fire that’s in my eyes burns|
what more you want from me
(what more you want, ay)
what more you want from me
(what more you want, what more you want)
what more you want from me
(what more you want, ay)
what more you want
see winners can turn to losers| soulmates become divided| i mean that’s the way my mind is designed to remove a bias| no loose appliance when signing my g*nius to the science| of smithing words to its finest potential, my mental climate| been over the weather, which means my head in the clouds, its less about loud and more about ambitions i found| they digging the sound, the difference is the way i dish out the equivalent ak, bullets spit to the ground| jesus, seems to speak to me through breezes that sneak up, till strong winds lock in and tease us leave us pleading to ease up| i take the… lessons of jonah, hovah sits on our shoulder so the demons that think they own us sink and weaken below us| but see if he know us then why he throw these blocks in before us, a question that’s helps fathers grow up, see ya boy need diplomas| but im exhausted moving foward| all the work that be h–rding, just lacking the correlation to the dreams im supporting| i’m fiending for mental relief but nothing seems to achieve it| with exception of writing songs, i blow the stress through the leaves| but momma and pop could see that pot ignited hipocrocy| or atleast that’s the claim they got of me, my sanity’s possibly| retracting back from my grasp i couldn’t handle the cautioning| but i can’t afford the relief by the means that its costing me| i tell myself open yo eyes, this gon’ mold yo design, u broke but the bank rolls’ll rise, till then i fold to the sky| i’m crying out…
what more you want from me
(what more you want, ay)
what more you want from me
(what more you want, what more you want)
what more you want from me
(what more you want, ay)
what more you want
see wicked and bad tales directed to black males| someone like me prevails wherever the cl-ss fails| but diligent blacks still imprinted with bad smells| that’s scented with crack, k!llings and siblings in packed cells| intelligence masked, just cause my skin give u bad wills| only hope that it last, the newest tip of the lash| i’ll chip through the gl-ss ceilings| is my incentive to k!ll| my first impression reveals that it don’t matter i’m still… a n-gga| that’s word to jigga, i never lost sight| while these people that hear that one word and think i don’t talk right| ever had people lie to you saying it don’t apply to you| complaining about these lying dudes acting you ain’t tired too| i guess that my patience enables it because i’m silent, too busy realizing that while u cry someone ain’t survive like you| but it be fine in my mind it be like a riot too| tear gas in my mood, burning buildings what i spit fire through|
drugs and nasty thinking h-ll yeah i might spit a line or two| but getting things off my chest gotta see the board and plan my next move| i throw emotions to catchy tunes, base is loaded with talent too| i could stream it, think that ain’t true| why i’m running home after school and… mlb stand for major losbravado| get major problems, we blow yo mind leave yo mental a hollow| ain’t talking hollows my shot is loaded with all its ammo| this game a war zone and they ain’t see what we do like camo|
what more you want from me
(what more you want, ay)
what more you want from me
(what more you want, what more you want)
what more you want from me
(what more you want, ay)
what more you want
what more you want from me
(what more you want, ay)
what more you want from me
(what more you want, what more you want)
what more you want from me
(what more you want, ay)
what more you want
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