These n*ggas be buggin man...
Y'all n*ggas want me to wear what? and do what?
f*ck all that, I'm bout to get a
9 to 5
I work hard at being lazy, and y'all see me as crazy
But chill fam, it takes a real man no matter the gender
To walk away from fame and get a (9-5)
While I'm still in the game, cause i don't appeal to the fame
My real name is my rock the mic name
Groupies are cool, but not tonight dame
You hot as i jot, make me feel quiet lame
Piff the new boss, i almost got fired
Was gonna snatch a 20 bag for my dude Josh
Come back with a 20 dollar bill like "Dude I'm suicidal"
Can't tell you how i feel, instead ODing with a power drill
He made me feel like a coward feels
The n*gga got dope bud, but when i smoke, it still feels like sour still
We not beefin, but i kinda feel scum like
Go to sleep holdin my suicide gun tight
I really might do it one night...
These saltine crackers get me DUMB tight
Don't blog about this, no unsolicited interviews
What if God said bloggin is what i was meant to do?
Music sent me to defend her moves
So go hate like most administrative n*ggas do
My great and great grandmother died
Been four years since i looked into my brothers eyes
Marcus, our bond is retarded, no family, alone with no market
I sold out with Gauchos, keep it real y'all
Like the song, i don't, cause i don't feel y'all
I sound like another them, not the real Charles
Nothin on my album can reveal Charles
But buy it, don't steal y'all, cause its still Charles
I chalk it up as a real loss
But i win, these are confessions of a real boss...
You heard me? And I'm...