"Post Modern" lyrics
My foreign is
All new
And your shit is just
Alright
Postmodernists
All new
Blahzay and just
Alright
We really is
All new
You're silly, just
Alright
The vibes is
All new
And the bags is
Alright
The vibes is
All new
And the bags is
Postmodern is contemporary, whatever
Postmodern is contemporary, whatever
Game on, corner lot up on the lawn
I want Malcolm across the street to put me on
Drug dealer, concubine on his arm
Is it the currency that make the ladies swarm?
I'm just a little scrap, I did it with my charm
What will it take for me to strip 'em to their thongs?
Big chains, little games, questions in my brain
To attain money, fame, Mulsanne switching lanes
My mother took her tax return and invested it
She bet it on her kid and look at what he did with it
2000 in '84, that's a hundred thousand x multiple from keeping you on the floor
Keeping people in awe
Mama, the deed is yours
The world is your oyster, shuck it and eat it raw
Making dreams come true is an art form
My foreign is
All new
And your shit is just
Alright
Postmodernists
All new
Blahzay and just
Alright
We really is
So I started spitting bars
Now mama's picking cars
From quarters in the jars to daughters that are stars
Forever dreaming large, inside of you's a god
Regardless of your theology, reach in your reservoir
Incendiary mythology, phoenix above the law
Magnetic genetics is pulling you on the floor
I said it, mama, I meant it, go get it, the world is yours
Manifesting rewards for all that the girl endured
My intuition is speaking, I'm tweaking, I can't ignore it
I'm on a mission of beating the odds, feed me some more
Got a vision, I'm raising the bar up to the Lord
Sowing and reaping, so pockets are never leaking
Why would they? I'm the plug, that's metaphorically speaking
We outside, we dreaming, you still sleeping
It's time to ride, you see him, ya man's peaking
All new
And your shit is just
Alright
Postmodernists
All new
Blahzay and just
Alright
We really is
All new
You're silly, just
Alright
The vibes is
All new
And the bags is
Alright
The vibes is
All new
And the bags is
Postmodern is contemporary, whatever
Postmodern is contemporary, whatever
Game on, corner lot up on the lawn
I want Malcolm across the street to put me on
Drug dealer, concubine on his arm
Is it the currency that make the ladies swarm?
I'm just a little scrap, I did it with my charm
What will it take for me to strip 'em to their thongs?
Big chains, little games, questions in my brain
To attain money, fame, Mulsanne switching lanes
My mother took her tax return and invested it
She bet it on her kid and look at what he did with it
2000 in '84, that's a hundred thousand x multiple from keeping you on the floor
Keeping people in awe
Mama, the deed is yours
The world is your oyster, shuck it and eat it raw
Making dreams come true is an art form
My foreign is
All new
And your shit is just
Alright
Postmodernists
All new
Blahzay and just
Alright
We really is
So I started spitting bars
Now mama's picking cars
From quarters in the jars to daughters that are stars
Forever dreaming large, inside of you's a god
Regardless of your theology, reach in your reservoir
Incendiary mythology, phoenix above the law
Magnetic genetics is pulling you on the floor
I said it, mama, I meant it, go get it, the world is yours
Manifesting rewards for all that the girl endured
My intuition is speaking, I'm tweaking, I can't ignore it
I'm on a mission of beating the odds, feed me some more
Got a vision, I'm raising the bar up to the Lord
Sowing and reaping, so pockets are never leaking
Why would they? I'm the plug, that's metaphorically speaking
We outside, we dreaming, you still sleeping
It's time to ride, you see him, ya man's peaking
