I’m So Raw lyrics

by

Kanye West


[Verse 1]
Look, I'm so raw, turn the oven on
Chef Papa John, I get the parmesan
She want a yellow n*gga, corn on the cob
Indian giver, slob on my knob
The b*tch blow hard, harder than some Halls
Here, take 'em all, you'll be straight in the morn'
I'm two peace gone, I'm never gon' call
Fly n*gga, I don't wear it if it's in the mall
Seen it on the blogs, these motherf*ckers cost
Yves Saint Laurent, you can tell by the fonts
I do what I want, wake up when it's lunch
Walk like I'm drunk, uh, swagga so uh
Goyard trunks, go around, I got a bunch
Tell TSA, "b*tch, get up out my stuff"
I wouldn't recommend you to ever check 'em in
I started with the end so when do I begin?

[Verse 2]
I'm so raw, turn the oven on
Chef Papa John, I get the parmesan
Pocket full of paper, underage in casinos
You wanna see ID, oh? But I'm in the suite though
Here my room-key, go, room movin' slow-mo
Fans want a photo, but it's my turn to roll
Hold up, baby, hold those, you see I'm chillin', dolo
Lens with a logo, pinky ring, Frodo
I'm feelin' my self, no ho-h-h-homo
Hold that beat, poor that more ro-r-r-roso
Rosé, you bozos, couldn't speak what I'm on
You would need Rosetta Stone
All these n*ggas all clones, we be originals
Young Money Seminoles, tribe full of generals
Don't ask me sh*t unless it's in a interview, n*gga
Unless it's in a interview
[Outro]
Ha, don't talk to me, I'm not your friend
I'm just a fan of a fan
Haha, I love all my fans though
Mmm
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