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worker's comp - the thought lyrics

[intro: the thought]
y’know, i guess all my heroes really are cornb*lls…
and that’s why…

[verse: the thought]
i’m hesitant being a fan
‘cause you never know who they standing with
talking one way, out their neck, on a record
but checks put the pressure, they ended up holding hands
with exactly the person they mentioned in lectures
their ethics get blurry when staring
at bands, how the circumstance
made for an empty gesture, choke on my words singing
praises for man, rolled on a stretcher
and placed in an ambulance, i haven’t been
living life lavish, i’ve had it with caping for rappers
who faking their substance
thought “my word is bond” was the practice
and took it for granted, but that was an accident
i need worker’s comp for the verses redacted
they so full of sh*t that their colon’s impacted
i’m actually mad at the liars, they had to supply us
with lines sounding pious, while wearing a wire
so they could get back with the opposition
give ‘em every tactic, what a misnomer
cut a fascist, bleed a politician (exposure!)
when they snapping a pic of the mob, it’s a flash
what’s done in the dark comes to light
but how can you trash on yourself? that makes you a mark
and a blight on the culture, a soldier turned vulture
an agent provocateur
bolstering pockets is vulgar
when all of your statements were premature
got your foot in the door, then you slammed it
took off with your newfound advantage, ravage the stances
that made you a name we respected
we pulling the handle, your seat at the table ejected!
bro!
you ain’t scaring the hoes, you scaring the jews!
he’s wearing a burzum shirt!
posing for pics, standing right next to you!
[bridge: lvlc]
dru keep telling me not to rap about sh*t like this
‘cause she tired of… she tired of this, of me rapping about being broke
i’m not rapping about being broke, b*tch
i’m rapping about how i need to get paid!

[verse: lvlc]
my wallet on e for effort, but effort don’t pay what i need
and what i need is greener pastures, a fee to eat
or something clean to sleep in, or feed my family
guy, i feel like peter griffin, heater tripping
cold is creeping, my feet are freezing
numb to the touch, feel like my feet are missing
but i just keep running and running
feel like i’m forrest and jenny just told me she “miss me”
like, “miss me with it”, no commas, then problems
come quickly, and mixing don’t cost “free”, idiot!
my time isn’t cheap and you wanted a feature
but mad ‘cause i’m working with people who
pay me, period, point blank, they paint me
insidious, don’t they? but the further i go
when my door closed, they possessed to say
i’m the “evil one”, won’t they? i won’t pay them no mind
just pay what you owe me this time
consider us done, we ain’t working for fun
‘cause fun never owed me a dime, you do b*tch!
now get the f*ck out my sight… jesus f*cking christ
[bridge: lvlc]
you think… i do all this sh*t and you f*ckers think this sh*t’s free?
friendship don’t pay the bills, hoe!

[bridge: k folks]
yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
look, i don’t ever be knowing what
this n*gga the thought be talking about in none of his tracks, bro
he got all these lyrics and vocab, and i’m all over here like…

[verse: k folks]
she wanna cop the dior
but we broke, i informed, but my consonance on
so it’s time that i body this, i rap like i’m hard
but my feelings like formula, way that
i mix ‘em and bottle it, and these rappers
do not have a clue what i’m talking ‘bout
hiding the fact that their child is fatherless
don’t be mad that i know what i know
but be mad when you watch me explode, and you home
and you picking at holes in your couch, and you mocking it
i got no problems with poverty
but your attitude’s surely indicative
and i’m sick of your mouth, put a d*ck in it
hope your lazy ass show initiative
looks so sad, yeah, bro’s down abysmal
white, black stripes, yeah i feel so official
shoot for the stars, blast off like a missile
wear a raincoat, making all the girls drizzle, drizzle
oh sh*t…
(‘cause i wanna make it, so badly)
[outro: k folks]
shouts out tommy richman
the thought
(they don’t know that…)
k folks
(we really be doing this sh*t)
va on top
(like really doing this sh*t, it’s just*
it’s just time they found out)

- the thought lyrics

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