Kumbaya, my Lord, I might say things that you might not supportWhen do I drop the torch?Bless my enemies, which whom I mop the floor withIt’s true, my thoughts are morbidI’ma do my job, of course, shitCan’t fit in my shoes, niggas wishin’ I loseI’ma get it like, “Woo”I done left it all behind me in Cali’While yellin’ goodbye to my familyI had to do a little soul search (Yeah)All of my demons kept on fightin’ and scrappin’Inside of my mind, I was crashin’Maybe I was having a growth spurt (Uh)They tell me I should go out and mingle, it don’t work (What?)I’ve contemplated on whether or not to smoke Purp (No)Think you sick in the head? Come visit my shedI live on the edge, let’s jump, shit, I’ll go firstMmm, yikes, quite preposterous (Yeah)White kids soaking up the hype up off itHi, I’m Hopsin, I’m obnoxiousI’ve been token like the guy from BostonWatch me rise to top ten (Yeah)You know what I mean? Ain’t no one like meI’ma turn all of my haters to some overnight fiendsI done made a lot of money from exposing my grief (What?)Flow catch bodies like it’s COVID-19, niggaBi**h, listen, I’m exerting the gas fumesI’m the a**hole who goes to work in a bad mood (Yeah)Me and my alter ego make a murderous rap group (Uh)I’m handin’ beef to niggas like I’m servin’ up fast food (Yeah)I should’ve been spazzed, now the burden has passed throughHaters wanna laugh at all the hurdles I ran throughBut the word on the avenue (What?)Is now they wanna watch UPLike a f**kin’ pervert in the bathroomNigga, ew, yuck (Yuh)The ladies always tell me I’m a real cunt (Yuh)These wack motherf**kers, that’s a meal lunch (Yeah)On every instrumental, I’ma spill gutsAnd I’m still nuts (Hello)Like RoboCop’s scrotumI’m givin’ niggas Hell but I really hope I’m not goin’And if I do, I’m pullin’ up with hoes in my foreignWhile the Man above is watchin’ with his Coke and popcornWell I guess I’m a villain, labeled as strangeLabeled a clown, labeled derangedLabeled as someone you might put to shameLabeled a freak, who’s unable to changeI’m sick in the head, I’m sick with the grindI am not someone you casually findWhere is the light? Give me a sign‘Cause I got way too much shit on my mindAnd I’ma get it all outKumbaya, my Lord, I might say things that you might not supportWhen do I drop the torch?Bless my enemies, which whom I mop the floor with
It’s true, my thoughts are morbidI’ma do my job, of course, shitCan’t fit in my shoes, niggas wishin’ I loseI’ma get it like, “Woo”I been noticing a shift in the industryToo many niggas who appear to be grittyFlashin’ they nice jewels (What?)Braggin’ about some pills and packin’ a rifle (What?)You just gon’ be another rapper that dies soon (Boom)That’s another body off the marketRigor mortis seen him before police saw the carcassSome of these niggas really ’bout itThey gon’ show you all the cornersNow your mamma gotta see you droppin’ slowly on a harnessShit, it might be me next, I really mean itThe reject that you all love, I ain’t He-ManSome niggas ain’t got a piss to pot, they can pee inThey hate the planet so they come at you lookin’ for revengeThat’s why I gotta go to sleep with the nine tuckedNiggas creepin’ up, f**k it, I ain’t leavin’ survivorsOne squeeze and your spine bustUgh, actually, I don’t want yo’ dirty corpse on my carpetGet the f**k out of hereMy attitude is that of a Hulk smashMixed with Tony Montana snortin’ bags of his coke stashIf it’s true that I’m a savage at cold rapI might as well rock a white jacket and Pulp hatDissin’ me is like having your throat gaggedAnd f**ked ’til your insides saggin’ and prolapseBig and ‘Pac was a tragedy, no capBut hearing me rap is like having ’em both backYeah, so how can you deny [?]Livin’ on cloud nine, better believe the altitude is highNiggas say, “The game’s better, Hopsin, now that you’ve arrived”‘Bout to lace you motherf**kers with an album you can buyYes, I had to go retarded, I was dropped at birth (Yah)F**k all y’all, I’ma let my cock disperseI got a constant urge to let the bombs emergeAnd only time I’m worn out is when it’s Hopsin merchI’m a villain, labeled as strangeLabeled a clown, labeled derangedLabeled as someone you might put to shameLabeled a freak, who’s unable to changeI’m sick in the head, I’m sick with the grindI am not someone you casually findWhere is the light? Give me a sign‘Cause I got way too much shit on my mindAnd I’ma get it all outKumbaya, my Lord, I might say things that you might not supportWhen do I drop the torch?Bless my enemies, which whom I mop the floor withIt’s true, my thoughts are morbidI’ma do my job, of course, shitCan’t fit in my shoes, niggas wishin’ I loseI’ma get it like, “Woo”Boom! That’s another body off the market