Jon Connor
Priceless
[Intro]
We interrupt this program to bring you an emergency announcement
So young artist or exec
You've got all the money you could ever imagine
And you're still sad (Aww)
You've been able to smash every thot that comes your way
And you're still sad (Aww)
You've got a bunch of chains and cars and dumb shit—
Now that's exactly my point, none of this is real
So brother, we've got to stay grounded in reality

[Verse 1]
Look
Sellin' out your brother, fall out with your mother
You just make a living gossipin' 'bout other motherfuckers
All you n***as messy like you run in puddles
All you n***as pussy, I can't say it subtle
This the type of shit that make a hater humble
I'm made of the same sun I'm sittin' under, shittin' thunder
Blood of Harriet Tubman, n***a, I'm just out here diggin' tunnels
N***as puppets, bitches fuckin' with the quickness
Any n***a who got season tickets see the thickness
All I see is trouble

[Interlude]
I don't care about your trophies
Oh, you don't want any?
It was wrong for me to take 'em in the first place!
Oh, it was, was it? You took 'em nevertheless, didn't ya?
Take it all!
I don't want any of this shit!
You watch your language!
You go to hell!

[Verse 2]
Who you flexin' to? Who sittin' next to you?
Yeah, I see the shit you tryna show me, homie
Slow down, where the rest of you?
I see through the vest, so while you wrestle with what's testin' you
I gave back what you want, the worst of me is the best of you
I hope my aggression SOS'in' you
These bitches you be dressin', sexin', puttin' on a pedestal, finessin' you
In essence, all you are is an investment, more or less
Yeah, these hoes is more or less, all I'm undressin' is the naked truth
Executin' every move, I'm petty-proof, I'm Freddy loose
A nightmare, I'm Kyle Kuzma, Terry Crews, very true
Flint, Michigan, a couple miles away
From the cemetery where they buried Proof
Get buried for a pair of shoes
High as fuck, I need a parachute, on edibles, woo
Word to Charlotte Flair, I'm just prepared, do I look scared to you?
The path I chose was terrible, unbearable, don't follow me
I wouldn't double-dare you to, you saw what I'm prepared to lose
Like sellin' out for camera views and manicures
Or fuckin' stuck-up bitches with fake asses and a attitude, I had a few
The shit that you attracted to distractin' you
Ooh, I hope the news is gettin' through to whoever the fuck I'm rappin' to
Never fake, never fake, tryna stay real to get to Heaven
In the days where even the fuckin' reverend fake
Me and who I am to the core will never separate
No matter the position, the circumstances, or bread I make
[Outro]
How much you need, n***a?
How much you need, n***a? How much a ho—
How much a whole-ass soul go for these days, n***a?
You tell me, n***a, 'cause I don't know!
You know, there are still a lot of people out there
Who think that their morals and their pride
Are more important to them than money
Can you believe that?
No, I can't believe it
Because morals and pride, they can't buy you diamonds, sir
Virgil, you're learnin' fast
And all you people out there
Are gonna learn the same lesson that Virgil here has learned
That money can, and does, buy you anything or anybody
Like I said, everybody's got a price