Lights Out lyrics

by

Tyga


[Verse 1]
I miss the days when music critics weren't incredibly dumb
When after seeing Grammy winners I didn’t need to get drunk
When all you had to do was music made not only for charts
When industry was not so f*cked, and now we see only sc*m
Selling their asses for fags to grab this damn number one
600.000 a week, but what the f*ck on your mind?
You grab the Grammy for rapping but I don't see decent rhymes
Where did the old Kendrick go? What the f*ck happened, Lamar?
Mad city changed you, Kung Fu Kenny worth a penny, but I
Won't give you this, I wish I had the chance to go back in time
And f*ck me up just for a thought about, uh, buying your crap
The masks are falling down, Messiah, now I’m freezing your butt
Not rich, not kid, I'm not so good at spitting raps about life
But I will not have a record with motherf*cker like that
I thought you are above this sh*t, but better try not to breathe
Congratulations, with "New Freezer" you destroyed your career

[Bridge 1]
Cross Trafalgar Square, Kenny over here, f*ck him up in there

[Verse 2]
Yo, say f*ck the chorus, f*ck the trends, then say goodbye to the charts
Instead of doing sh*t I choose to be incredibly smart
Prefer to be a bitter pill and not to have a sweet heart
I start to motherf*cking push instead of pushing to start
Who do we have right now, f*ckers? Rappers that do not rap
These motherf*cking kids worth nothing, rockstars full of damn crack
Just like the sound of their necks when I take a step on their plaques
They were so hard to earn in 90's, cut that f*cking sh*t back!
You start forgetting legends, kids, and now here comes the payback
I'm the ambassador of conscious rap, it's only a fact
My reasoned thinking doesn't let me call you b*tches and fags
Without the f*cking reason, but I got a bag full of that
You f*cking j*rks cannot remember 1995
The year of death of gangsta rap, "Poverty's Paradise" -
The one and only album of 90s deserving Gram-
Mys just for being a rap record, click and clack
[Bridge 2]
Sleep on this and stare, looking up on here, I'll be down there

[Verse 3]
Three verses in the row, my mind is working really quicker
Than Uzi Vert recording songs, but f*ck him, let him eat sh*t
f*ck being humble, I’m so tired, I’m so f*cking sleepless
Insomnia is killing me just like your damn playlist, b*tch
I'm f*cking tired of my crew with family feuds and problems
My love galore is full of whores that f*ck the mumble rappers
They don’t know sh*t 'bout loyalty but love the backs of bouncers
This not the story of OJ but I'm that yellow bast*rd
The flower boys with Layla's wisdom act so f*cking sassy
They sh*t on faces of the blacks, it’s only for the culture
The gods make world go round by spinning up forth and backwards
I guess you didn't understand the words but most of rappers
That feel my flow and understand why I'm so damn insane
Tell f*ckers that I'm yet to come to bring me back this game
Say f*ck to similarity and calm down my migraine
And try cosplaying Drake's recording, nothing was the same

[Bridge 3]
I'm offensive, yeah, if you f*cking care, I'll be over there
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