💃🎤 Paroles de chanson Française et Internationnales 🎤💃

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Artiste : B.O.B.
Titre : Dontbenobodysbitch
In search of something greater
I´m sick and tired of doing fuck niggas favors
I´m sick and tired of chasing down designer labels

So I said "fuck it, imma start up my own label"
´Cause tryna please you, I just ain´t capable
I´m sick and tired of tryna make myself relatable
So please don´t ask me why my eyes low
´Cause madafucka i could do this with my eyes closed

How many hits? How many pills do I gotta take to think of a hit?
To be at the top, how much cotton do I gotta pick?
How many M´s do I gotta get? Don´t make any sense
Ain´t that a bitch? Ain´t I, Ain´t I legit?
Since I was a g, fuck with my shit
I was a stubborn kid, I grew up stuttering, hoping that someone on top would discover me
How many publicists do I gotta-?

How many publicists I gotta hire to juggle this fuckery? Someone should cover this, I´ve had enough of this
I can´t make up this shit, I am on too many substances
How many streams? How many themes? How many awards? How many rings?
Fuck with these dreams

Who I ride for?
Definitely not no clown-ass niggas, call you sideshows
And we, and we know that your IG be telling lies, hoe
I´mma reap the shit that I sow

I find it odd, niggas stay saying "don´t wife a thot"

But you wifing thots behind the dignified facade
Your life´s in knots, my life might appear more aligned a notch, but I´m on suicidal watch
(Hello? you ever just wanna die a lot)
Well, commence the chords, B.o.B you sound rich and bored
I say we´re just a bunch of piles of shit with pores
That spend all day eating, then shit some more
I don´t want kids, I´m convinced, I´m sure
Pull out like my dick´s a sword
Eight billion people, 90% of them´s poor, but fuck it, what´s a few more
Let´s even get more shit to afford
Seventy summers and you´re a cripple corps
You on, you on, you on my dick
A dog, a dog, a dog only holler when it´s hit
That means something I said must got under your skin

Tell me, how real can I get?
I said fuck the feds, the twelve, the CIA it ain´t shit
´Cause they can´t do shit

Who I ride for?
Clown-ass niggas, call you sideshows
Your IG be telling lies, hoe
I´mma reap the shit that I sow

In search of something greater