Three-Sixteen lyrics

by

Tyler, The Creator


I’m a man of the future, not a man of the past
But 17 years young, and I got manners and class
Proud to acknowledge the fact, my father taught me all that
Never a silver platter cause we never had it like that
And it feel like the rap game a thing of the past
Checkin’ back to when rap used to provide facts
Slappin’ tracks with no face tats, or fake name fads
Wake bake pass, ain’t no lame rate rappin’ pay way raps
Spittin’ facts, y’all in to rap for the trends and the fads
It’s all a trap and y’all be fallin’ through that, all blue and black
So it’s sad that you lackin’ the talent I’m packin’ up faster than
I’m trappin’ a rat and the rappers I’m massacre capturin'
Attackin’ em back, into massive attachment of happiness
So that be distractin’ the crackers who rappin’ so bad in it
They say necessity is the mother of invention
But low attention preventin’ some from comprehendin’ that
There's no time like the present, waste no second
Don’t embellish it because time is of the essence
Life is a dream for the wise and a game for the fools
A comedy for the rich, a tragedy for the poor
You gotta hope for the best, but prepare for the worst
They say the early bird catches the worm
Same destination but a different path
Everybody tryna make a living doin’ rap
And everybody can’t make it out the underground
So if you wanna make it out, you gotta
Stick around, don’t f*ck around
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