Boom!Bap - Stann Smith

Yeah

Name’s Smith

What up?

Shoutouts to

Shoutouts to me and

Shoutouts to ya’ll

Yeah, I drive gyms like a mother quick to call her

Fear my brother, never call a girl my lover

Yeah, my names Smith

Screaming Every King

We almost famous, suited up

It’s some Adidas,

See me doing shows, magazines wanna intervene

Always on the road or the streets cuz I do my thing

Nappy headed fro, let it grow, stayin' crisp clean

Everybody love me can’t compare me to them dummies

I make my own money, you don’t even own your masters

Your suck ass label couldn’t get a show in

Market and gorilla, hip-hop instrumental builder

Entrepreneur, I’m the black Derek Sivers

Everybody love me so I’m climbing up the pillars

You divin' in a pool and you ball, play billiards

I hustle in a pool or you a pool swimmer

You’ve never seen a que ball, you a pool sticker

I had an argument with a hipster

He said I should get a deal with a

A deal with the risk of shady ass

Then he told me to take his card

I looked him dead in his face and told him, «Kiss my ass»

What you think I went to college for, to get a job?

You the type to write rhymes to buy a different car

And another, resonate with fans so they doesn’t understand to be the

heavyweight champ, uh

They buy my shit cuz they gon' love it when they pop it in

And they buy your shit cuz they your friends, oh well

Way too cheap to sleep inside a hotel on tour cuz shows might not go well

Sleep in the back of the car or a motel

Profit ain’t guaranteed, my love for it propels

Me either when I’m havin' slow sales, rappin' like my predecessors boombap with

no bells

I don’t drink or don’t smoke L’s

I’m not concerned with your wack ass

Heard you on your last mixtape, it was half-ass

Heard you on your new mixtape, it wasn’t that bad

Until you said, «on the drop» and I just pushed stop

I’m not with the fads, miss the funk and the jazz with the turntable scratch

and the

Levis and the black tee like Booker

But gotta be a hip-hop T like Pusha

Illuminate the bass and the beat with the kick drum

In my kingdom

That’s why them rappers tryna jack it and they be mad cuz they see me on the

come-up, yeah

They try to throw shit at my shows, took De La Soul flow, I’m just a mofo

Sellin' the whole show but I did it for dolo

No, I did it with my fam, every king has

Put them posters on the wall of them undergrad dorms

Got my first encore a Abigail now I can lounge cuz my name’s on the club bill

I don’t even drink liquor, but I got my cup filled

I know promoters, I booked it with the owner

So much secondhand smoking put me in a coma

I started feelin' dizzy by the smell of the aroma

Man, I started chokin' cuz the smell was hella vulgar

So they kicked em out the club as drunk as Coca-Cola

Man, I’m writin' rhymes about the world and how I see it

These rappers writin' lies about the girls they never be with

I can’t write a club song cuz I never party

I’m all about my business, when they reach me, then you call me

If I don’t answer leave a message or a text

And I’ll respond prolly' to the number you request

I don’t think in music you can call yourself the best

Cuz everybody brings somethin' different from the next

And I’m bringing somethin' fresh, yeah, I said I’m bringing something fresh,

right, I said I’m bringing something fresh

Yeah, I said I’m bringing something fresh and every king and my name’s Stann

Smith, yeah, I said they call me Stan Lee, yeah, Mr. Ever-ever-y

rap every king has, yeah

Yeah, what up P3, what up Kid?

Every King Over Everything Thing

You know the slang

Keep the sayin' till we dead high in the sky for us until we under six feet

deep, they gon' scream «Every»

And on that note

Go back to playin' Modern Warfare