[Verse]
Scared to branch out, 'cause you might leave
Only care how I'm perceived, I get attacked, but you don't want to sleep
Say that old Logic is dead, but you don't want to grieve
Rather listen to my new shit and complain and leave
When I buzzed my head, they said it was wack
So I grew it back, but not for that
Judging my music based on aesthetic is pathetic
Biracial, we get it, you're proud of who you are, but you should quit it
Say they want the boom-bap back, but when I bring it back
Say it's not the same, changed by the fame
What if I told you: I recorded most of Young Sinatra IV on the Undеr Pressure Tour
Would it make it any morе classic?
Visualizing my horizon is beautiful
But die hard fans, this shit is mutual
Social media lets the consumer get greedier
They feel like they can tell you how to rap
What they call that? The loud minority butchered the 'curity (heh)
Look at my likes, look at my likes
Got a million on a new post, but a few like, "it's aight"
I mean, he's selling out arenas, and he give hope to the dreamers and he rap 'bout what he love
But it's still not good enough to me in my dorm room, in my momma house, at my fucked up job I don't care about
If I left, would they contemplate my whereabouts?
It's like basketball: "LeBron James ain't shit, Kobe ain't shit, Michael Jordan ain't shit, Kevin Durant ain't shit"
Same people tryna tell 'em how to dribble try to tell me how to spit
For you it's entertainment, for us this is life, no attainment
"If I was him, this is how I'd do it, he choked, I knew it, he blew it"
We don't show up at your job telling you how you should do it
We don't comment on your page when you're divorced, say he blew it
We don't act like we know who you are, anything but a superstar
White people don't like when I say, "black is beautiful"
Most people don't like when I say, "I am beautiful"
Call me corny, call me wack, call me anything but black, call me all the things you want, but I nailed it like a cuticle, uh
"You should'a spit it like this, should'a rapped it like that", man, what the fuck is that?
I don't tell you how to flip your burgers, I don't tell you how to raise your kids, I don't tell you how to spend your money
I don't tell you what your life really is
Pathetic, we get it
So you hatin' on the ones that live