Songtext zu 'Tried To Be' von Witt Lowry

It's Mr. High ass me again, so sad, I need a friend
Thought y'all could sedate, your mistake was putting the needle in
Y'all broke skin, now all the demons, they keep on creeping in
Your mouth is full of shit, I might hit the lip when I piss in it
I took a pic and post it on my Twitter like: What's happening?
I hope that I can get a couple likes and find a badder bitch
With nice tits, a nice ass, some nice lips, a nice rack
She said: You're cumming too quick, I said: Bitch, you define fast
I look up at the clock, how much time passed? One minute
Oh yeah, you know a minute, was straight drilling that fine ass
She said: I think you're lying, I'm tired, and where's the wine at?
And where is all the weed? I'm in need of something to climax
I said: Okay, uh, well, let me see what I got
I start to search around my house, I found my ex-girl's top
I went from soft to jacking off, now I'm in need of a mop
And I hear her yelling from my room: Mark, I said I want pot
Destined to flop, 'cause look at all the bullshit on top
My only chance at success is if Kanye tells me to stop
While I'm at the Grammy's and they hand me the award for best pop
And I think I'm joining One Direction now that Malik is lost
Need a moment to pause, I want to say: Hi, Miss Swift
If you ever gave me the chance, then I could show you my dick
I could send you a pic, I don't care if Harry doesn't like Witt
Like B and J, Witt and Tay, we could take over this shit

Huh? We could take over this shit
Me and you, we could take over this shit
But for real though

Yo, so why'd you send your daughter to college here in the first place?
You pay 20k and your daughter became a sperm bank
Was fucking five guys on the first day
She learned how to suck a dick
And still hasn't experienced her first A, damn, she's looking up from her knees
She knows about whiskey neat, double D's and the trees
She's getting high because the last guy, he left her with ease
Asking him: Please don't leave, you said you loved me
On Tinder swiping right like which bitch gon' fuck me?
You know that I'm the man, five grams of protein and some money
And girls are saying they love me and guys are wishing they was me
I'm offering nothing more than a washborn on my tummy
It's funny, I might go name my next album Tha Carter VII
And sell a bunch of copies outside a 7-Eleven
And make it sound like shit so that no one can comprehend it
Baby, must've fucked your ears and then career, 'cause you ain't selling
I'm not dissing who you think I'm dissing, it's someone different
I tried to be nice and then no one listened, so I'm pissed
And if I hear another bitch try to tell me how she is different
Like: I never get around, but her pussy I fit my fist in
Insisting that I'm so jealous, I'm jealous of who?
Your screws are loose for you to think I'm jealous of you
You're lame and never made anything but balls turn blue
Telling the truth and when offended, then I'm talking 'bout you

And I'm talking 'bout you, stupid ass bitch
Fuck you, you, you and you

Oh, I must be over privileged 'cause I comb my hair
While I'm looking through Walmart, Target and Kors for some clothes to wear
You stupid fuck, I got a hairy pair
Just for you to suck and if I bust, I might just bust in your hair
Because I aim high, we are not the same guy
You are just a lame with no brain and a day job
My dad, he got laid off, too drunk off the Jäger
And still drove me all around the town, wow, thanks Pa
You could have fuckin' killed me, I could have been dead
Your only purpose on this earth was your sperm and now look what you did
You created the greatest rapper to live
And when I'm standing at the Grammy's, hi Granny, bitch, you ain't worth shit
Look at me win, I had a friend and he's irrelevant now
Come to find out, found his tongue in my ex-girl's mouth
Karma is a bitch, the last I heard is you was surfing the couch
The day you go out is the day that I feel bad for the ground
You're stealing my sound, you're wack and I don't want to collab
Look at your past, I'm counting every rapper line that you jacked
You sound like me if I could suck on my sack
Like: Witt, drop shit so I can copy it and say I can rap
I've come to attack you bottom-feeder fucks, I'ma blast
Stealing your art and then your lyrics, you're not real, you're an act
Not tweeting you back, you're honestly the parrot of rap
You're making me laugh, I'm everything the rap-game lacks
In fact, go ahead, compare me to the greatest again
They said that Em sounds like Nas and Hop sounds like Em
And I sound like Hop, so where do we end?
Stop comparing me, compare what you can't comprehend
Can't wrap your head around the fact that I'm just nice with a pen
I'm standing up and talking shit, I'm never one to pretend
Never one that would blend, I'm not Eminem and I'm not Lennon
I'ma lead a generation and pick it up where they left it, it's Witt